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Short  stories  for  short  people 


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SHORT   STORIES    FOR   SHORT    PEOPLE 


C 


SHORT  STORIES 


FOR 


SHORT  PEOPLE 


ALICIA  ASPINWALL 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

MARIE  L.   DANFORTH 


NEW  YORK 
B,  P.  BUTTON  &  COMPANY 

68  X  FirrH  Ave. 


Copyright 

E.  P.  BUTTON  &  CO. 

1896 

FirH      Printing Jnne.  1806 

Second         "  September,  i8(ff 

Xkird  '  June,  1901 

Fourth         '  July.  1005 

Fifth  '  August,  1907 

Sixth  '  July,  1909 

Seventh        "  December,  zoiO 

Eighth         '  May,  1 91 2 

Kinth  '       February,  1914 

Tenth  '  July.  191 3 

Eleventh       '       May,  igi? 

Twelfth        ■        August,  191S 

Thirteenth    *        March.  1920 

Fourteenth    '        May,  1921 

Fifteenth      *       August.  1929 

Sixteenth     "  July.  1023 

Seventeenth  June.    J924 

Eighteenth  "       July.  1925 

Nineteenth  "  March.   191* 

Twentieth     "  March,  1926 

Twenty-first  "     November,  1926 


Printed  in  ^  United  States  of  America 


J 


Ljbiaiy,  Univ   oi 
Norii)  Caroling. 


TO    GARDNER 

"THE  YOUNGEST  MEMBER  OF  THE  HOUSE' 

THIS  BOOK 

IS  LOVINGLY  DEDICATED 

BY  HIS  MOTHER 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 

THESE  stories  are  bits  of  that  pure  imagina- 
tion of  which  the  best  types  are  to  be 
found  in  Grimm's  Collection  of  German 
Household  Tales,  and  of  which  the  line  was  so  well 
continued  by  Hans  Andersen.  Many  have  tried  to 
follow  in  the  same  path  ;  but  none,  it  seems  to  me, 
have  done  it  so  well  as  Mrs.  Aspinwall.  Her  stories 
have  that  pure  impossibility  in  which  children  de- 
light, that  fresh  vigor  which  carries  attention  along, 
and  that  suggestion  which  even  children  vaguely 
feel  of  deeper  meanings.  "  The  Quickly-Growing 
Squash,"  for  instance,  is  to  the  child  who  hears  it, 
as  it  doubtless  was  to  the  author,  only  a  bit  of 
frolic  extravaganza  ;  but  if  it  had  been  written — as 
it  well  might  have  been — by  Tieck  or  Hoffmann 
or  Musaus,  it  would  have  had  ere  now  a  dozen 


Vlll 


Prefatory  Note. 


theories  and  elucidations  advanced  by  wise  com- 
mentators. It  would  have  been  held  to  express 
systematically  the  growth  of  a  sin  or  of  a  suspicion 
or  of  a  superstition,  or  of  any  one  of  half  a  dozen 
other  things  of  which  the  author  never  dreamed. 
That  is  the  test  of  a  fantasy-piece,  that  it  has 
something  for  all ;  it  rouses  a  whole  swarm  of 
analogies  and  suggestions,  yielding  a  moral  when 
the  author  sought  only  innocent  fun  and  the 
delights  of  narration.  The  lover  of  childhood  and 
the  lover  of  creative  imagination  may  alike  find 
pleasure  in  this  book,  and  it  should  have  ten 
thousand  readers. 

Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson. 

Cambridge,  Mass. 


CONTENTS. 


A  Quick-Running  Squash         .        -        .        i 
Bosh-Bosh  Oil  ......        9 

The  Toad  .        .        .        .        o        .        .      32 

Tula  Oolah 39 

The  N.  S.  Bicycle 56 

The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson  ...  65 
Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden        ...      77 

The  Shadow 88 

What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard  .  99 
The  Runaway  Watch  .  .  .  .112 
A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City  .  iig 
The  Light-House  Lamp  .  .  .  .133 
Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle  .  .138 
The  Upsidedownians  .  .  .  .146 
The  Iron  Dog 160 


Contents. 


My  Flannel  Rooster 

The  Statue  and  the  Birds     . 

The  Toad-Boy 

The  Sad  Experience  of  Poor  Pomposity 

Red  Boots 

Saved         

The  Disobedient  Island  . 

The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle    . 

The  Lady  of  Snow  .... 

How  the  Andirons  took  a  Walk  . 

"Achusett's  Ride  to  Philadelphia" 

The  Mouse's  Revenge      .        . 

The  Tail  of  a  Mouse 


A  QUICK-RUNNING  SQUASH. 


CHARLES   owned  a  garden.     One  morning 
his  father  called  him  and  pointing  to  four 
stakes  driven  in  the  ground  which  certainly 
had  not  been  there  the  night  before,  said  : 

"All  the  land  within  those  four  stakes  is  yours, 
your  very  own." 

Charles  was  delighted,  and  thanking  his  dear 
father  ran  off  to  get  his  little  cart,  for  he  wished 
at  once  to  build  a  stone  wall  about  his  property. 
He  did  not  fear  it  would  run  away,  but  he  knew 


2  A  Quick- Running  Squash. 

that  land-owners  always  walled  in  their  posses- 
sions. 

"After  the  wall  is  built,"  said  his  father,  "you 
may  plant  in  your  garden  anything  you  like,  and 
James  will  give  you  what  you  ask  for." 

In  two  days  the  wall  was  built,  and  a  good 
one  it  was  too,  being  strong  and  even. 

The  next  day  James  set  out  some  plants 
for  him,  and  gave  the  boy  some  seeds  which 
he  planted  himself,  James  telling  him  how  to 
do  it. 

He  then  got  his  watering-pot  and  gently 
sprinkled  the  newly  planted  ground  with  warm 
water.  Running  across  the  lawn  he  looked  down 
the  road  to  see  if  his  father  had  not  yet  come 
from  the  village.  His  father  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen,  but  coming  down  the  road  was  a  most 
remarkable  looking  man.  He  was  tall  and  thin 
and  had  bright  red  hair  which  had  evidently  not 
been  cut  for  a  very  long  time.  He  wore  a  blue 
coat,  green  trousers,  red  hat,  and  on  his  hands, 
which  were  large,  two  very  dirty,  ragged,  white  I 
kid    gloves.     This   wonderful   man   came   up  to 


A  Quick- Running  Squash.  3 

Charles  and  asked  for  a  drink  of  water,  which  he, 
being  a  polite  boy,  at  once  brought.  The  man 
thanked  him,  and  then  said  : 

"What  have   you  been    doing  this   morning, 
little  man?"  S 

Charles   told  him  about  his  new  garden,  and 
the  man  listened  with  much  interest. 

"Little  boy,"  said  he,  "there  is  one  seed  that 
you  have  not  got." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  The  seed  of  the  quick-running  squash." 

Charles's  face  fell. 

"I  don't  believe  James  has  that,  and  I  don't 
know  where  to  get  one,"   he  faltered. 

"Now,  as  it  happens,"  said  the  man,  "I 
have  one  of  those  very  seeds  in  my  pocket.  It 
is  not,  however,  that  of  the  common,  every- 
day quick-running  squash.  This  one  came  from 
India,  and  is  marvellous  for  its  quick-running 
qualities.  You  have  been  kind  to  me,  little  boy, 
and  I  will  give  it  to  you,"  and  with  a  peculiar 
smile,  this  strange  man  produced  from  his  pocket, 
instead    of   the    ordinary   squash    seed,*   an    odd, 


4  A  Quick-Running  Squash. 

round,  red  seed  which  he  gave  to  Charles,  who 
thanked  him  heartily,  and  who  ran  to  plant  it  at 
once.  Having  done  so,  he  went  back  to  ask 
when  the  quick-running  squash  would  begin  to 
grow.  But  the  man  had  disappeared,  and  aK 
though  Charles  looked  up  and  down  the  dusty 
road,  he  could  see  nothing  of  him. 

As  he  stood  there,  he  heard  behind  him  a  little 
rustling  noise,  and  turning,  saw  coming  toward 
him  a  green  vine.  He  had,  of  course,  seen  vines 
before,  but  never,  never  had  he  seen  such  a  queer 
one  as  this.  It  was  running  swiftly  toward  him, 
and  on  the  very  front  was  a  round  yellow  ball, 
about  as  big  as  an  orange !  Charles  looking  back! 
to  see  where  it  came  from,  found  that  it  started 
in  the  corner  of  his  garden.  And  what  had  hel 
planted  in  that  corner?  Why,  to  be  sure,  the 
seed  of  the  quick-running  squash  which  the 
strange  man   had  just  given  him. 

''Well,  well,  well,"  he  shouted,  in  great  ex- 
citement, "what  an  awfully  quick-running  squash 
it  is.  I  suppose  that  little  yellow  thing  in  front  is 
the   squash   itself.     But   indeed  it   must   not  run 


A  Quick-Running  Squash.  5 

away   from    me,    I  must  stop   it,"    and  he  darted 
swiftly  down  the  street  after  it. 

But,  alas,  no  boy  could  run  as  fast  as  that 
squash,  and  Charles  saw  far  ahead  the  bright 
yellow  ball  now  grown  to  be  about  the  size  of 
an  ordinary  squash,  running  and  capering  merrily 
over  stones  big  and  little,  never  turning  out  for 
anything,  but  bobbing  up  and  down,  up  and 
down,  and  waving  its  long  green  vine  like  a  tail 
behind  it.  The  boy  ran  swiftly  on.  "  It  shall  not 
get  away,"  he  panted.     '*  It  belongs  to  me." 

But  that  the  squash  did  not  seem  to  realize 
at  all.  He  did  not  feel  that  he  belonged  to  any- 
body, and  he  did  feel  that  he  was  a  quick-running 
squash,  and  so  on  he  scampered. 

Suddenly  he  came  to  a  very  large  rock,  and 
stopped  for  a  moment  to  take  breath,  and  in 
that  moment  Charles  caught  up  with  him  and 
simply  sat  down  on  him. 

'•  Now,  squash,"  said  he,  slapping  him  on  the 
side,   "  your  journey  is  ended." 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  when  he 
suddenly   felt   himself  lifted   up  in   the    air,    and 


6  A  Quick-Running  Squash. 

bumpity,  bump,  over  the  stone  flew  the  squash, 
carrying  with  him  his  very  much  astonished  little 
master!  The  squash  had  been  growing  all  the 
time,  and  was  now  about  three  times  as  big  as 
an  ordinary  one.  Charles,  who  had  a  pony  of 
his  own,  knew  how  to  ride,  but  never  had  he 
ridden  anything  so  extraordinary  as  this.  On 
they  flew,  "  roll,  waddle,  bump,  bump ;  roll, 
waddle,  bang;'  the  boy  digging  his  knees  hard 
into  the  sides  of  the  squash  to  avoid  being 
thrown.  He  had  a  dreadfully  hard  time.  Mount 
the  next  quick-running  squash  you  meet,  and 
you  will  see  for  yourself  how  it  is. 

To  Charles's  great  delight  he  now  saw  his 
father  coming  toward  him,  riding  his  big  black 
horse  Nero,  who  was  very  much  frightened  when 
he  saw  the  boy  on  such  a  strange  yellow  steed. 
But  Nero  soon  calmed  down  at  his  master's 
voice,  and  turning,  rode  along  beside  the  big 
squash,  although  he  had  to  go  at  full  speed  to  do 
so.  ^'Gallopty-gallop  "  went  Nero  and  "bumpity- 
bump "  went  the  squash.  Papa  lost  his  hat 
(Charles  had  parted  with  his  long  before). 


A  Quick-Running  Squash.  7 

"What  are  you  doing,  my  son,  and  what, 
what  is  it  you  are  riding?"  asked  his  father. 

"A  quick-running  squash,  Papa,"  gasped 
Charles,  who,  although  bruised  and  aching,  re- 
fused to  give  up  the  squash,  and  was  still 
pluckily  keeping  his  seat.  "Stop  it,  oh,  do  stop 
it.  Papa." 

His  father  knew  that  this  could  be  no  ordinary 
squash,  and  saw  that  it  evidently  did  not  intend 
to  stop. 

"  I  will  try  to  turn  it  and  make  it  go  back,"  he 
said,  so  riding  Nero  nearer  and  nearer  the  squash, 
he  forced  it  up  against  a  stone  wall.  But,  instead 
of  going  back,  this  extraordinary  squash  jumped 
with  scarcely  a  moment's  hesitation  over  the 
high  wall,  and  went  bobbing  along  into  the  rough 
field  beyond.  But  alas,  before  them  was  a  broad 
lake,  and  as  he  could  not  swim,  back  he  was 
forced  to  turn.  Over  the  wall  and  back  again 
over  the  same  road  and  toward  the  garden 
whence  he  came,  Charles  still  on  his  back  and 
Charles's  papa  galloping  at  full  speed  behind. 

The  squash,   however,  must  have  had  a  good 


8  A  Quick-Running  Squash. 

heart,  for  when  he  reached  the  house  again,  he 
of  his  own  accord  turned  in  at  the  gate  and 
ran  up  to  the  wall  of  Charles's  garden.  There 
he  stopped,  for  he  was  now  so  big  that  he  could 
not  climb  walls,  and  indeed  had  he  been  able  to 
get  in  he  would  have  filled  the  little  garden 
to  overflowing,  for  he  was  really  enormous. 
Charles's  father  had  actually  to  get  a  ladder  for 
the  poor  little  fellow  to  climb  down,  and  he  was 
so  tired  that  he  had  to  be  carried  to  the 
house.  But  the  squash  was  tired,  too,  dreadfully 
tired.  I  suppose  it  is  a  very  bad  thing  for  a 
growing  squash  to  take  much  exercise.  This 
certainly  was  a  growing  squash,  and  there  is  also 
no  doubt  that  he  had  taken  a  great  deal  of  exercise  1 
that  morning.  Be  that  as  it  may,  when  the  family  \ 
were  at  luncheon,  they  were  alarmed  by  hearing 
a  violent  explosion  near  the  house.  Rushing  out  to 
see  what  could  have  happened,  they  found  that  the 
marvellous  quick-running  squash  had  burst! !  It 
lay  spread  all  over  the  lawn  in  a  thousand  pieces. 
The  family,  and  all  the  neighbors'  families  for 
miles  around,  had  squash  pie  for  a  week. 


/^^^^ .. 


BOSH-BOSH  OIL. 

A  Fairy  Story. 

GARDNER  had  started  off  by  himself  for  a 
long  tramp  through  the  woods.  He  had 
walked  qtdte  a  distance  when  he  suddenly 
came  to  a  small  brown  hut,  which  he  was  about  to 
pass  when  he  heard  cries  of  pain  coming  from  it. 
Running  quickly  to  its  one  window,  he  looked  in, 
and  saw  a  most  extraordinary  sight.  An  old  man 
was  alone  in  the  one  room,  standing  near  the  wall 
and  with  his  face  pressed  hard  against  it.  The 
tears  were  running  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  was 
moaning   piteously. 


lo  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  Gardner,  "andi 
why  do  you  stand  there  with  your  face  pressed  to" 
the  wall?" 

"Come  in,  little  boy,  and  I  will  tell  you,"  was 
the  answer. 

Gardner  ran  in,  and  seated  himself  on  a  three- 
legged  stool,  which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor. 

"Day  before  yesterday,"  began  the  old  fellow, 
**  I  was  standing  at  my  door,  and  a  small  man, 
with  a  tall  pointed  cap  and  a  long  beard,  passed, 
dressed  entirely  in  brown.  He  tripped  and  fell, 
and  I  laughed,  which  made  him  very  angry.  'I 
will  teach  you  to  laugh  at  me,'  he  scolded.  *I  am 
^L  Brownie,  and  no  one  may  laugh  or  even  look  at 
a  Brownie.'  Then  he  told  me  that  in  punishment 
I  must  stand  here  with  my  nose  glued  to  the  wall 
till  some  kind  boy  got  for  me  the  '  Bosh-Bosh 
Oil.'  If  I  rub  some  of  that  on  my  nose  I  shall 
then  be  free.  Vou  have  a  kind  face,  and  I  wonder 
if  you  woulS  be  willing  to  help  me?" 

"  Indeed  I  will  get  this  wonderful  oil  for  you  if 
I  can,"  said  Gardner.     "  Where  is  it  to  be  found  ?  " 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  1 1 

"There,"  and  the  old  man  pointed  to  the  top 
of  a  mountain  near  the  house.  **  But  the  path 
is  a  very  steep  one,  little  boy,  and  the  Brownie 
said  there  were  many  dangers  to  be  braved 
before  one  could  reach  the  top.  When  fairly 
there,  however,  you  will  find  the  oil  in  a  golden 
box,  in  a  golden  house,  and  guarded  by  the 
famous  Gold-Bird.  Many  boys  have  been  here, 
but  no  one  would  venture,  and  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  stay  here  till  I  die,"  and  he  began  to 
weep  again. 

Now  Gardner  was  a  brave  as  well  as  kind 
ooy,  and  he  was  greatly  touched  by  the  old 
man's   sad   position. 

''I  will  go,"  he  said,  "and  don't  lose  your 
courage,  for  I  will  come  back  soon,  and  if  it  is  a 
possible  thing,  bring  the  oil." 

The  old  man  was  delighted,  and  thanked  the 
boy  heartily,  as  he  started  on  his  mission. 

He  found  the  path  up  the  mountain  with  no 
difficulty,  and  a  pleasant  path  it  was,  being 
shaded  and  with  flowers  on  either  side.  He 
walked  on  for  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  when   he 


12  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

was  stopped  by  a  very  strong  wire,  which  was 
stretched  directly  across  the  path.  He  got  down 
on  his  knees  and  tried  to  crawl  under  it,  but 
lo  and  behold,  down  came  the  wire  and  he  could 
not  pass  it!  "I  will  then  jump  over  it,"  he 
said.  But  when  he  got  up,  up  it  flew,  for  it 
was  a  magic  wire,  and  was  there  to  prevent 
people  going  any  farther.  Gardner  looked  to  the 
right  and  left,  but  found  that  it  stretched  way 
off  in  the  distance,  on  either  side,  which  made 
it  impossible  for  him  to  go  round  it.  He  sat  * 
down  for  a  moment,  discouraged,  but  not  for 
long.  That  very  morning  he  had  exchanged  with 
a  boy  friend  a  fine  three-bladed  knife  for  a  big  red 
marble  and  a  wonderfully  powerful  magnet.  This 
magnet  he  now  took  from  his  pocket,  and  held  , 
toward  the  wire.  ' 

"Ah,  ha!"  he  shouted,  for  the  wire,  though 
evidently  with  the  utmost  reluctance,  bent  to 
meet  it.  Magic  though  it  was,  it  had  to  obey 
the  magnet.  Gardner  held  the  magnet  lower 
and  lower,  finally  laying  it  on  the  ground,  and, 
sadly     obeying     it,     down,     down,     down     came   the 


1 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  13 

wire  also.  Then  the  boy  stepped  over  it,  and  it 
rattled  angrily  as  he  did  so.  Looking  back  and 
laughing  merrily,  he  found  to  his  amazement  that 
the  wire  had  disappeared!  And  not  only  that, 
but  his  magnet  as  well,  had  vanished!  Gardner 
was,  of  course,  greatly  surprised,  but  he  expected 
to  see  strange  things,  and  so,  in  a  moment, 
continued  his  journey. 

He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  saw  before  him, 
sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  path,  a  small  but  very 
pretty  Italian  greyhound,  who  was  looking  at  him 
intently,  her  little  head  cocked  on  one  side,  and 
her  two  ears,  which  were  enormous,  raised  in  the 
greatest  astonishment.  * 

"Where  did  you  come  from,  boy?"  she 
asked. 

"I  came  from  below,"  he  answered,  "and  my 
name    is    not    Boy,    but    'Gardner,'    doggie." 

"And  my  name  is  not  Doggie,  but  'Little 
Pitcher,'"  was  the  answer  while  the  large  ears 
were  held  proudly  upright. 

"Well,    'Little   Pitcher,'    you   seem    to  be   a   nice 

•This  picture  is  taken  from  a  liTing  "Little  Pitcher." 


14  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

dog,  but  I  cannot  waste  time  talking  to  you,  I 
must  hurry  on." 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  the  dog,  politely  but  very 
firmly,   "but  this  place  you  shall  not  pass."  , 

Gardner  smiled.  , 

"You  funny  little  thing,"  he  said;  "and  how 
are  you  going  to  prevent  my  doing  so?" 

"In  this  way,"  and  the  boy  suddenly  found 
himself  seated  in  the  path  tripped  by  the  nim- 
ble  little   hound  ! 

Three  times  was  this  repeated,  till  Gardner  at 
last  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  path  and  glared 
angrily  at  his  small  tormentor.  Then  he  remem- 
bered that  he  had  a  cracker  in  his  pocket.  Taking 
it  out  he  offered  it  to  the  little  animal. 

"Thank  you,  I  have  already  dined,"  was  thq 
dignified  answer. 

"Then  don't  you  want  to  come  for  a  walk 
with  me?"  and  Gardner  smiled  persuasively  at 
the  dog,  who  wagged  her  tail  but  said  she  had 
just  returned  from  a  long  walk. 

The  boy's  heart  sank.  There  remained  but 
one   more  thing  to  try. 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 


^b 


"  On  my  way  up  here,"  he  began  (and  truth- 
fully too),   ''  I  saw  a  cat" 


At  this  Pitcher's  eyes  glistened,  and  she  was  visi- 
bly affected,  although  she  was  silent  for  a  moment 
Then  coming  nearer  the  boy,  she  whispered  : 


y         Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

"What  kind  of  a  cat?  Big  and  strong  and 
a  fighter,  I  daresay?" 

"No,  rather  a  gentle,  frightened  looking  cat." 
The  small  dog's  body  grew  suddenly  rigid.  Her 
eyes    rolled.     She    smacked    her    lips    and    said: 

"Ah,  well,  she  was  very  near  her  home,  I 
suppose?  " 

"No,  in  a  field." 

"Z'hounds!  You  don't  say  so?  Of  course  she 
was    near    shelter    of    some    sort?    Near    a    tree?" 

"No,   in   an   open   field." 

"You  don't  say  so?" 

Pitcher  was  now  trembling  and  her  voice  was 
hoarse    with    excitement. 

"This  cat — this  cat,"  she  panted,  "was  facing 
the   road,    I    suppose?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Gardner,  "her  back 
was  toward  the  road,  and  she  was  sound  asleep." 

"Back  toward  the  road — and  asleep!  Great 
Sirius!  This  is  too  much!!  I  cannot  let  this 
chance  go,"  and  with  a  howl  of  delirious  excite- 
ment, Pitcher  vanished  down  the  path!  Gardner, 
laughing  heartily,  went  osk. 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  17 

But  only  for  a  few  steps,  for  his  way  was  again 
blocked.  This  time  by  a  bush,  a  cruel  looking 
bush,  covered  with  long,  sharp  thorns  which  grew 
directly  in  the  middle  of  the  path.  The  boy  tried 
to  pass  on  the  right  side,  when  to  his  amazement, 
the  thorn-bush  gave  a  funny  little  hop  and  placed 
itself  directly  in  front  of  him.  He  then  ran  quickly 
to  the  left,  but  the  bush  ran  too,  and  stood  firmly 
before  him,  again  barring  the  way. 

While  wondering  what  to  do,  he  saw  lying  on 
the  ground  near,  a  small  box.  Full  of  curiosity 
he  opened  it  and  found  it  contained  a  large  fat 
yeast  cake.  But  it  was  not  a  common  everyday 
yeast  cake,  for  it  smelt  like  delicious  candy. 
Gardner  tasted  it  carefully,  and  finding  it  was  as 
good  as  it  smelt,  ate  it  all,  and  then  what  do 
you  think  happened?  He  suddenly  felt  himself 
rise.  Up,  up,  up  he  was  lifted,  high  over  the 
thorn  bush,  and  then  down,  down,  down  he 
slowly  came  on  the  other  side.  For  the  yeast 
he  had  eaten  was  made  in  fairyland,  and,  working 
much  quicker  than  ours  can,  had  made  Gardner 
rise  at  once.     Four  times   he  bounded    up   into 


i8 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 


the  air,  each  time  being  carried  not  quite  so  high, 
and  the  last  time  he  was  dropped  right  in  front 
of  a  boy   who  was  seated  in   the  middle  of  the 


/V>' 


.«■> 


path,  and  who  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  Thisi 
boy  was  older  than  Gardner,  and  he  was  big  and  I 
fat,  and,  to  Gardner's  horror,  he  had  a  bright  blue 
face. 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  19 

"  What  are  you  bounding  along  in  that  absurd 
way  for?"  he  asked,  and  Gardner  told  him  about 
the  yeast  cake  and  begged  him  to  let  him  go  on 
his  way. 

"  No,"  said  Blue-Face,  with  much  firmness, 
"that  I  shall  not  do.  I  have  sat  here  for  five 
years,  and  shall  do  so  for  the  next  five.  Come 
again  in  five  years,  and  then  perhaps  I  will  let 
you  pass." 

"Oh,"  said  Gardner,  "that  will  be  much  too 
late.  I  am  in  a  great  hurry,  for  I  wish  to  get 
some  of  the  Bosh-Bosh  Oil  for  the  poor  old  man 
I  at  the  foot  of  the   hill.      He  is    suffering." 

"Well,"  said  Blue-Face,  indifferently,  "that, 
of  course,  is  nothing  to  me.  I  cannot  let  you 
pass." 

Gardner  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  drew 
forth  the  big  red  marble. 

"  Oh,  what  a  beauty,"  said  Blue-Face  ad- 
miringly. 

"  It  shall  be  yours,  if  you  will  let  me  pass." 

"No." 

"Then  it  shall  be  yours  if  you  can  catch  it" 


20  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

"Take  your  offer  and  thanks  for  it,"  said  Blue 
Face. 

Gardner  then  threw  up  the  marble,  and  in 
such  a  way  that  when  it  fell  it  must  roll  down 
the  path.  This  it  did,  and  Blue-Face,  seeing 
what  was  now  his  own  property  rolling  rapidly 
down  the  hill  away  from  him,  forgot  everything 
and  dashed  after  it,  while  Gardner,  seizing  his 
chance,  flew  in  the  other  direction. 

"Good-bye,  Blue-Face,"  he  shouted,  but  re- 
ceiving no  answer,  looked  back,  to  find  no  boy, 
and,  alas,  no  marble. 

"What  a  strange  path  this  is,"  he  said,  "and 
how  can  things  disappear  so  quickly." 

The  air  was  now  suddenly  filled  with  deafen- 
ing barks.     "  Bow-wow-wow  "  in  a  very  high  key, 
"  bow-wow- wow "    in    a    middle-sized    key,    and  I 
"  bow-wow- wow  "  in  a  very  low  key.      Gardner 
stopped  and  looked  about  him,  but  saw  no  dogs.     I 

"Those  are    dogs,   I    know,"    he    said,    "andj 
wherever    they  are,   I   am   sure    I  hope  they    are  \ 
muzzled,"    for   he   could    not   help   feeling   a   bit 
nervous. 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 


21 


A  sharp  turn,  and  a  strange  sight  was  before 
him.  In  the  very  middle  of  the  path  stood  an 
enormous  brown  jug,  and  in  this  jug,  and  appar- 
ently fastened  by  their  tails,  were   about    twenty 


snakes  !  At  least  Gardner  thought  they  were 
snakes,  till  on  examination  he  found  that  each 
had  the  head  of  a  dog.  One  the  small  head  of 
a  black  and  tan,  another  of  the  impertinent  pug, 


22  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

one  of  the  big,  shaggy  St.  Bernard,  another  of 
the  Newfoundland,  and  so  on ;  and  each  dog-head 
was  barking  its  loudest,  while  the  snake-bodies 
were  writhing  wildly  from  side  to  side.  The 
boy's  heart  sank. 

"  Never,  never,  can  I  pass  those — those — 
things — whatever  they  are,"  he  said.  Then  he 
remembered  the  poor  old  man  waiting  for  him. 

"Good  dogs,  good  doggies,"  he  said,  in  a 
wheedling  tone,  though  his  teeth  were  chattering 
with  fear. 

His  answer  was  louder  barking  from  the  dog- 
snakes,  and  wilder  writhing  from  the  snake-dogs. 
Suddenly  he  thought  of  the  cracker  in  his  pocket. 
Breaking  off  a  piece,  he  threw  it  down  near  the 
jug.  "  Snap,"  and  one  of  the  dog-snakes  had 
eaten  it,  and  with  apparent  relish.  Then  he  broke 
up  all  the  crackers  into  small  pieces,  and  going  as 
near  the  big  jug  as  he  dared,  threw  them  on  the 
ground  at  one  side.  All  the  dog-snakes  bent  at 
once  to  eat  them,  which  for  a  second  left  the  other 
side  free,  and  in  that  second,  but  with  his  heart  J 
beating  hard,  Gardner  darted  by     The  dogs,  find^ 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  23 

ing  that  he  had  escaped  them,  gave  one  tremen- 
dous bark,  and  then — ^when  the  boy  looked  back, 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  except  the  dusty,  brown 
path  stretching  off  behind  him. 

On  he  trudged  and  suddenly  stepped  into 
something  horrid,  very  black  and  fearfully  sticky. 
He  drew  back  his  foot  quickly,  but  in  doing  so, 
the  boot  was  actually  torn  from  him.  He  then 
tried  to  go  round  the  sticky  mass,  but,  alas,  it 
seemed  to  extend  on  either  side  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  Then  he  tried  to  pull  out  his  boot, 
but  it  was  as  firmly  imbedded  as  if  it  had  grown 
there. 

"  This,"  he  said,  "  is  the  very  worst  place  I 
have  reached  yet.     What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

A  bunch  of  brilliant  yellow  flowers  now  at- 
tracted his  attentions. 

"Buttercups,"  he  said,  "and  what  monstrous 
ones  they  are,  and  oh,  what  in  the  world  does 
this  mean?  They  are  real  buttercups."  For,  on 
stooping  to  examine  them,  he  found  that  each 
little  yellow  flower  was  filled  to  overflowing  with 
something  that  certainly  looked  like  very  good 


24  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

butter.  Gardner  was  amazed,  and  then  a  funny 
thought  came  to  him.  ''Why  not  butter  my  feet, 
and  then  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  cross  this  pitch 
pond."  So  laughing  at  the  thought,  he  carefully 
covered  the  sole  of  his  boot  and  the  sole  of  his 
stocking  (and  very  nasty  that  felt,  too)  with  the 
butter.  Then  he  cautiously  tried  one  foot  on  the 
pitch,  and  found  that  he  could  now  walk  over  it 
with  the  utmost  ease  !  He  had  soon  crossed  it, 
and  turned  to  give  one  last  look  at  his  lost  boot, 
when — and  Gardner  rubbed  his  eyes  to  make  sure, 
for  he  thought  he  must  be  mistaken — he  found 
that  the  black,  sticky  mass  had  disappeared,  and 
with  it  his  boot ! 

He  had  scarcely  recovered  from  his  astonish- 
ment, when  he  was  startled  by  hearing  a  tre- 
mendous '' quaaaacky  Looking  up,  he  saw,  a 
little  way  up  the  path,  a  monster  duck — never 
had  he  imagined  such  an  enormous  bird.  Its 
mouth  was  wide  open,  and  was  fully  as  large  as  a 
window  I  This  alarming  creature  was  coming 
down  upon  Gardner  as  fast  as  she  could  waddle, 
and   her  eves   were   snapping  angrily.     He  had, 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  2  5 

poor  boy,  but  a  moment  in  which  to  make  up  his 
mind,  and  what  do  you  think  he  did  ?  Seizing  a 
handful  of  buttercups  (and  how  fortunate  it  was 
for  him  that  they  happened  to  grow  right  there)  he 
covered  his  entire  head  with  butter.    Then  gather- 


ing himself  together,  he  ran  toward  the  duck  with 
a  tremendous  rush,  ^e  was  the  very  best  runner 
at  school,  which  was,  of  course,  of  the  greatest 
assistance  to  him  in  doing  this  wonderful  thing. 

Can  you  credit  me,  when  I  tell  you  that  Gardner 
jumped  directly  into  the  widely  opened  mouth  of 
the  monster  duck,  and  that  he  went  with  such  tre- 
mendous force  that  he  shot  right  through  her,  land- 
ing a  foot  beyond  her,  face  down,  on  the  ground  1 


26  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

Of  course,  his  slippery,  buttered  head  was  a  great, 
great  help  to  him,  but  it  was  in  any  case  a  most 
marvellous  thing  for  a  boy  to  have  done,  was 
it  not  ?  He  lay  there  for  five  minutes,  without 
moving,  for  he  felt,  naturally,  quite  weak.  Then, 
remembering  the  poor  old  man,  he  slowly 
picked  himself  up,  and  went  on,  first  turning  to 
see  what  had  become  of  the  duck,  whose  dead 
body  he  expected  to  see.  But  no  duck,  either 
dead  or  alive,  was  there.  He  was,  however,  be- 
yond being  astonished  at  anything  now. 

'*I  don't  at  all  like  the  feeling  of  this  butter  on 
my  head,"  he  said,  as  he  continued  his  journey, 
"  and  I  wish  I  could  find  some  water,  so  that  I 
could  wash  it  off." 

His  wish  was  gratified,  for  there,  right  before 
him,  was  a  well.  And  not  only  a  well,  but  a 
bucket,  too.  This  Gardner  filled,  and  succeeded  in 
washing  most  of  the  butter  from  his  head.  Then 
he  saw  that  to  continue  on  his  road,  he  must  either 
go  round  the  well,  or  step  over  it.  To  go  round 
was  impossible,  as  the  ground  on  either  side  was 
too  steep.     To  step  over  was  equally  impossible, 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  27 

for  the  well  was  very  large.  **  Butter  won't  help 
me  here,"  he  thought,  sadly.  Looking  down  into 
the  well  he  called  out, 

"Won't  you  please  go  off,  Well,  and  let  me 
get  the  Bosh-Bosh  Oil  for  the  poor  old  man  ?" 

And  then,  he  almost  fell  into  the  hole,  for  a 
voice  far,  far  below  answered,  saying, 

"Who  is  speaking  to  me?" 

Gardner  was  much  frightened,  for  he  thought 
this  must  be  some  other  boy  who  had  fallen  into 
the  well. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  called  out. 

"Truth,"  came  the  answer,  and  then  Gardner 
remembered  to  have  heard  that  "  truth  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  a  well." 

"  I  wish  you  would  come  up  here,  Truth,"  he 
said  (for  an  idea  had  suddenly  come  to  him). 

"Very  well,"  said  Truth,  "wait  a  moment  and  I 
will  be  there." 

Gardner  promised,  for,  indeed,  what  else  could 
he  do  but  wait  ?  Soon  a  scrambling  and  scratching 
was  heard,  and  Truth  slowly  crept  up  till  he  reached 
a  big  stone  which  jutted  out  at  one  side,  about 


28  Bosh-Bosh  Oil 

two  feet  from  the  top.  And  on  this  he  sat,  while 
Gardner  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  for  he  was 
truly  a  most  remarkable  fellow.  He  looked 
young,  he  looked  old.  He  was  very  big  and 
round,  and  he  had  the  kindest,  frankest,  sweetest 
face  you  can  imagine.  Gardner  thought  at  first 
he  must  be  made  of  glass,  for  he  was  so  wonder- 
fully transparent — you  could  see  right  through  him. 

''Now,  boy,"  said  he,  "what  do  you  want  to 
ask  me?" 

"Why you  don't  tell  the  truth  at  all  times?" 

**Tell  the  truth  at  all  times?  I  do.  I  am  Truth 
itself,"  was  the  indignant  answer. 

"But  every  one  says  that  'truth  lies  at  the  bot- 
tom of  a  well.*  " 

At  this  Truth  laughed  heartily,  so  heartily  that 
he  almost  fell  from  his  slippery  seat,  and  then  he 
explained  that  it  was  a  different  kind  of  a  "lie." 

"But  I  don't  see,"  continued  Gardner,  "why 
you  live  at  the  bottom  of  a  well,  anyway.  I  should 
think  you  would  prefer  the  top.  But  perhaps, 
Truth,  you  can't  lie  down  as  easily  at  the  top  of  a 
well." 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  29 

"Oh,  yes,  Truth  can  go  anywhere,"  was  the 
proud  answer.  **  I  will  show  you,"  and  crawling  up, 
he  lay  down  over  the  well,  completely  covering  it. 

This  was  the  little  boy's  chance,  for  which  he 
had  been  waiting.  With  one  bound  he  was  over, 
using  poor  Truth  for  a  bridge,  but  stepping  very 
lightly,  not  to  hurt  him.  He  heard  a  great  splash, 
a  loud  cry  from  Truth,  and  looked  back  to  see — 
nothing,  nothing  but  the  dusty  path.  The  well 
and  fat,  pleasant  Truth  had  vanished  ! 

Now  as  the  boy  went  on,  the  path  changed. 
It  became  very  beautiful.  On  either  side  most 
gorgeous  flowers  filled  the  air  with  delicious 
perfume,  while  lovely  birds,  which  Gardner  had 
never  seen  before,  sang  loudly.  Suddenly,  he  felt 
a  light  touch  on  his  arm,  and  turning,  saw  beside 
him  a  wee  maid — a  fairy. 

"Gardner,"  said  she,  "you  have  been  a  very 
brave  boy.  You  have  passed  in  safety  all  the 
dangers  of  the  path,  and  I  will  now  lead  you  to 
the  Golden  Temple,  containing  the  Bosh-Bosh  Oil, 
which  is  guarded  by  the  famous  Gold-Bird." 

So  Gardner  walked  on  with  her,  trembling  with 


30  Bosh-Bosh  Oil. 

excitement.  Sweet  music  was  heard — a  soft  yel- 
low light  shone  on  him,  and  then,  looking  up,  he 
saw  before  him — the  Te^nple.  It  was  a  round 
house  made  of  solid,  shining,  yellow  gold.  Slen- 
der gold  pillars  supported  the  roof,  which  was 
made  of  diamonds,  and  was  too  dazzlingly  beauti- 
ful to  look  at.  They  entered  and  sat  down  on 
the  wonderful  chairs,  which  were  made  of  precious 
stones,  one  being  of  sapphire,  one  of  rubies,  one 
of  emeralds,  and  so  on.  A  small  gold  table  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  On  it  was  a  golden 
box  containing  the  wonderful  oil,  and  guarded  by 
the  Gold-Bird.  His  head  was  a  huge  diamond, 
his  eyes  two  brilliant  emeralds,  and  his  body  and 
wings  were  of  gold.  When  he  saw  Gardner,  he 
opened  the  box-lid  with  his  bill,  and  there  lay 
seven  tiny  bottles  of  the  wonderful  oil,  which  to  tell 
the  truth,  looked  just  like  kerosene.  The  fairy 
gave  one  bottle  to  Gardner,  who  thanked  her  and 
the  bird,  and  with  his  prize  clasped  in  his  hands, 
ran  swiftly  down  the  path,  delighted  to  think  that 
even  if  he  had  lost  his  boot  and  his  marble  and 
magnet,  he  could  now  help  the  poor  old  man. 


Bosh-Bosh  Oil.  31 

He  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  path,  when  he 
saw  a  small  black  object,  lying  directly  in  the  mid- 
dle of  it.  When  he  came  up  to  it,  he  found,  to 
his  delight,  that  it  was  his  boot.  Sitting  down,  he 
tried  to  put  it  on,  but  something  hard  in  the  heel 
prevented  his  doing  so.  Putting  in  his  hand,  he 
drew  out  his  magnet.  Again  he  tried,  and  this 
time  something  round  and  hard  in  the  toe  pre- 
vented him.  This  proved  to  be  his  lost  marble — 
and  now  the  little  boy  was  quite,  quite  happy. 

Running  to  the  hut,  he  found  that  the  old  man 
was  crying  as  if  his  heart  would  break,  for  he 
thought  that  the  boy,  who  had  been  gone  a  long 
time,  was  never  coming  with  the  magic  oil,  and 
that  he  would  have  to  remain  there,  his  face  pressed 
to  the  wall,  till  death  came.  Gardner  ran  to  him 
and  showed  his  treasure,  and  they  at  once  rubbed 
some  of  the  oil  on  the  poor  old  sufferer's  nose, 
which,  as  the  Brownie  had  said,  immediately  be- 
came free  / 

And  then  Gardner,  followed  by  the  old  man's 
thanks  and  blessings,  went  home. 


THE  TOAD. 

ONE  day  Reginald's  mamma  asked  him  if  he 
would  n't  like  to  get  some  mushrooms.  He 
said  he  would,  and  taking  his  pail  in  his 
hand,  off  he  went.  First  to  a  place  where  he  thought 
he  had  seen  some  growing,  but  they  proved  to  be 
toad-stools,  which,  although  pretty,  are  very  dan- 
gerous to  eat.  Reginald  knew  this,  so  he  did  not 
touch  them,  but  went  on  farther.  Soon  he  found 
a  beautiful  mushroom,  and  was  about  to  pick  it, 
when  a  voice  quite  near,  said  : 
"  Boy,  how  do  you  do  ?  " 

Reginald  turned,  but  seeing  no  one  thought  he 
must  have  been  mistaken,  and  again  stooped  to 
pick  the  mushroom,  when  he  saw,  sitting  beside 
it,  an  enormous  toad.    Just  then  he  again  heard^ 

the  same  voice,  and  this  time  louder : 

an 


The  Toad.  33 

**  I  said,  boy,  how  do  you  do  ?  "  And  if  you 
can  believe  me,  the  voice  was  the  toad's  voice, 
and  it  was  he  who  had  spoken  !  Reginald,  who 
had  never  heard  a  toad  speak  before,  and  in  fact 
did  n't  know  that  they  could,  was  so  much 
astonished  that  he  fairly  gasped. 

"That  mushroom,"  continued  the  toad,  calmly, 
"is  mine,  and  you  cannot  have  it.  Go  and  pick 
those  toad-stools." 

"  But,"  said  Reginald,  who  had  somewhat 
recovered  from  his  astonishment,  "I  don't  want 
any  toad-stools." 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  toad,   "of  course,  that  is 
not  my  fault,  now  is  it?" 

"No,"  said  Reginald,  somewhat  timidly. 

"Then  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do,  boy,  is  to 
go  home." 

"  But,  I  came  to  pick  mushrooms  for  my 
mamma,  and  I  certainly  shall  not  go  home  because 
a  toad  tells  me  to  do  so.     I  am  not  ready  to  go." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  toad,  "  I  beg  your  pardon ;  I 
thought  perhaps,  you  were  ready.  If  you  are  not, 
then  why  don't  you  stay  here?    And  if  you  stay, 


34  The  Toad. 


perhaps  you  would  like  to  go  fishing  with  me  ?  It 
will  really  give  me  much  pleasure  to  show  you 
how  I  catch  fish." 

Reginald,  who  was  very,  very  fond  of  fishing, 
could  not  resist  this,  and  said  : 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  I  should  like  that  very 
much." 

Then  the  toad  stood  on  his  hind  legs,  slipped 
his  cold,  slimy  hand  in  the  boy's,  and  on  they 
walked  toward    the  brook. 

'*  You  are  really  the  most  remarkable  toad  I  ever 
saw,"  said  Reginald.      "  What  is  your  name?" 

''Wait,"  was    the    answer,   ''and   perhaps    you 
may  guess  it  before  our  walk  is  over." 

As  soon  as  they  reached  the  brook,  the  toad 
seated  himself  on  the  very  edge,  in  the  mud. 

"Sit  down  beside  me,"  said  he  to  Reginald, 
who  did  not  at  all  like  to  do  this,  for  he  did  n't 
want  to  get  wet.  But  he  had  often  been  told  by 
his  father  that  whenever  he  went  fishing  with 
any  one,  he  must  do  just  as  he  was  told  to  do, 
so  when  the  toad  said  again,  "Sit  down  here," 
this  time  very  sternly,  why  Reginald — ^sat  down. 


REGINALD  AND  THE  TOAD.   PAGE  34. 


36  The  Toad. 

"Now,"  said  the  toad,  "I  think  I  may  truly  say, 
that  you  will  be  surprised."  So  they  waited  and 
waited  and  waited  and  waited,  and  no  fish  came. 

At  last  Reginald  lost  all  patience,  and  said,  "  I 
will  wait  no  longer,  I  have  not  seen  a  single  fish." 

"  Then,"  said  the  toad,  "  if  they  don't  come, 
I  can't  catch  them,  can  I  ?  But  there  is  one  thing 
I  can  do,  and  I  do  it  well,  too,  and  that  is  to  catch 
butterflies.     Would  you  like  to  see  me  do  it?  " 

"Toads  can't  catch  butterflies,"  said  Reginald, 
contemptuously. 

"  I  ask  you  again,  rude  boy,  will  you  come 
and  see  me  catch  butterflies  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  very  much." 

"Then  come,  and  you  are  to  look  up  in  the 
sky  all  the  time,  and  when  you  see  a  butterfly, 
tell  me,"  directed  the  toad. 

So  on  they  went,  the  toad  holding  Reginald's 
hand,  and  Reginald  looking  up  into  the  sky.  But 
although  they  walked  for  more  than  an  hour,  and 
the  poor  boy's  neck  ached  cruelly,  not  one  butterfly 
did  they  see. 

At  last,  Reginald,  as  before;  lost  patience,  and 


The  Toad.  37 

sitting  down,  said  angrily :  "I  shall  go  no  farther. 
I  have  not  seen  any  butterflies  at  all." 

"  Well,"  said  the  toad,  "  then  of  course  you 
don't  blame  me  for  not  catching  them.  You  seem 
tired,  and  you  are  hungry  too,  I  am  sure.  Are 
you  fond  of  wild  honey?" 

'•  I  never  tasted  any." 

"You  don't  say  so,"  said  the  toad;  **then 
come,'*  and  Reginald,  much  delighted,  followed 
him.  They  walked  on  and  on  and  ?n,  till  the 
poor  boy  was  ready  to  drop  with  fatigue.  At  last 
they  returned  to  the  very  spot  where  they  had 
first  started  from.  And  now,  what  do  you  sup- 
pose that  horrid,  disagreeable  toad  did  ?  He 
walked  to  the  mushroom,  and  sitting  down  upon 
it,  said,  "Well,  Boy,  have  you  had  a  pleasant 
walk?" 

Reginald  was,  of  course,  very  angry.  "I 
think  you  are  a  horrid,  wicked  toad  I "  said  he, 
"  a  perfect  frauds 

"Ah,  ha,"  said  the  toad,  "I  thought  perhaps 
you  would  guess  my  name,  and  you  have  done 
so.     My  name  is — 'Fraud'     And.,  little  boy,  there 


38  The  Toad. 

are  no  fish  in  that  brook ;  and  there  are  never  any 
butterflies  in  these  woods,  nor  is  there  any  wild 
honey,  for  there  are  no  bees.  Also,  there  is  but 
one  mushroom  here,  and  as  I  am  sitting  on  that, 
there  is,  as  you  see,  not  *mush  room'  for  you. 
So,  as  I  remarked  to  you  about  three  hours  ago, 
go  homer 

Those  were  the  toad's  last  words,  and  poor 
Reginald,  grieved  and  angry,  did  go  home, 
with  an  aching  neck  and  an  empty  pail;  and 
told  his  dear  mamma  all  about  it. 


TULA  OOLAH. 

LITTLE  Celia  Cameron  lived  with  her 
mother  in  a  cottage  by  the  sea.  Her  fa- 
ther had  been  a  fisherman,  but  was  drowned 
some  years  before,  when  Celia  was  quite  a  baby. 
Since  then  her  poor  mother  had  to  work  very 
hard  to  support  herself  and  her  child.  She  did 
washing  for  the  rich  city-people  who  spent  the 
summer  at  the  big  hotel  half  a  mile  down  the 
beach.  Good  little  Celia  did  all  she  could  to  help 
her  mother,  by  gathering  driftwood  for  their 
winter  fire.  There  was  much  of  this  wood  to  be 
found  on  the  beach,  for  many  a  good  ship  was 
wrecked  on  that  dangerous  coast.  This  occupa- 
tion brought  little  Celia  nearly  every  day  to  the 
beach,  where  she  was  as  much  at  home  splashing 
in  the  water,  as  any  fish. 

39 


40  Tula  Oolah. 

There  were  many  seals  on  that  coast,  who  used 
to  come  up  in  the  early  morning  and  sit  round 
sociably  together,  sunning  themselves,  and  lazily 
rubbing  their  sides  against  the  rocks.  Whether 
it  was  because  they  had  got  used  to  seeing  her,  or 
because  they  thought  Celia  must  somehow  belong 
to  them  on  account  of  her  name,  I  don't  know, 
but  they  certainly  were  not  afraid  of  her,  but  would 
come  quite  near,  and  sometimes  even  allow  her 
to  stroke  their  wet  glossy  backs. 

There  was  one  seal  in  particular,  with  whom 
she  became  quite  intimate.  She  often  brought 
him  bits  of  her  breakfast,  going  without  herself, 
poor  little  thing,  in  order  to  do  so.  Of  course 
the  seal  did  not  know  that,  but  he  certainly 
seemed  to  be  very  fond  of  her,  and  to  appreci- 
ate her  kindness,  looking  at  her  with  love  and 
gratitude,  in  his  great  soft  eyes.  After  a  while 
he  seemed  to  feel  that  it  was  not  right  for  him 
to  be  the  one  to  receive  presents,  and  to  give 
nothing  in  return,  so  after  this,  every  time  that 
Celia  appeared  he  would  dive  into  the  deep  water, 
and   come   to  her  proudly  bearing  a   gift     And 


Tula  Oolah.  41 

such  odd  gifts  they  were :  fishes,  sometimes  liv- 
ing, sometimes  dead,  bits  of  wood,  a  piece  of  an 
old  chain,  and  another  time  a  piece  of  slimy  sea- 
weed, fully  ten  feet  long.  Once  he  brought  her  a 
beautiful  pink  shell. 

Celia  was  always  very  careful  to  thank  the  seal 
(Soft-Eyes,  she  called  him)  for  all  the  things  he 
brought  her,  whether  she  really  liked  them  or 
not,  for  she  would  not  have  hurt  his  feelings  for 
anything.  But  when  she  saw  the  beautiful  pink 
shell,  she  gave  a  shout  of  delight,  and  stooping, 
kissed  Soft-Eyes  right  on  his  wet  head.  He 
gave  a  little  contented  grunt,  and  nestled  up  to 
her,  and  there  they  both  sat  for  a  long  time,  sun- 
ning themselves,  Soft-Eyes  munching  the  cracker 
she  had  brought,  and  Celia  examining  the  lovely 
shell.  It  was  afterward  put  on  a  shelf  in  the  one 
room  of  the  tiny  cottage,  and  every  one  admired 
it,  for  it  was  not  often  that  any  one  had  so  pretty  a 
shell,  and  particularly  one  brought  up  from  the 
ocean-bed  and  given  by  a  soft-eyed,  friendly  seal. 
One  day  Celia  went  to  the  rocks,  and  her  dear 
friend  was  not  there. 


42  Tula  Oolah. 

"Soft-Eyes,"  she  called,  and  several  seals  bobbed 
up  their  heads,  but  Soft-Eyes  was  not  among  them. 

Seating  herself  she  waited,  thinking  perhaps  he 
had  gone  farther,  trying  to  get  another  pink 
shell  for  her.  "He  will  be  here,"  she  said,  and 
sure  enough  she  soon  heard  a  great  puffing, 
snorting  noise,  and  on  came  Soft-Eyes  swim- 
ming slowly  toward  her,  and  carrying  in  his 
mouth — something.  What  it  was  she  could  not 
make  out.  Twice  it  slipped  from  him  and  he  had 
to  dive  for  it.  When  he  got  nearer,  Celia  saw  that 
it  was  an  iron  box,  he  was  carrying.  Crawling  up 
on  the  rocks,  he  dropped  this  strange  gift  by  her 
side,  and  then  looked  triumphantly  into  her  face 
with  eyes  that  said  plainly,  "There,  what  do  you 
think  of  that  for  a  gift?" 

Celia  didn't  know  what  to  say  but  looked  at 
the  box  with  the  greatest  astonishment. 

"Where  did  you  get  it,  Soft-Eyes?"  she  said, 
but  he  only  grunted,  thinking,  no  doubt,  that  the 
little  girl  was  thanking  him  again  for  what  he  had 
brought  her.  And  indeed  it  had  been  no  easy 
matter  for  him  to  pick  up  that  heavy  iron  box  from 


Tula  Oolah.  43 

the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  where  it  had  lain  almost 
hidden  by  great  pieces  of  iron,  and  a  pile  of  rot- 
ten timbers,  which  had  crumbled  as  he  pulled  away 
the  box,  and  which  was  all  that  remained  of  a  big 
ship  that  had  been  wrecked  there  many,  many  years 
before. 

But  of  this  the  seal  knew  nothing,  nor,  of 
course,  did  Celia.  The  box  was  about  a  foot 
square,  made  of  iron,  and  was  locked,  and  there 
was  no  name  or  inscription  of  any  sort  on  it. 

"Where  is  the  key,  Soft-Eyes?"  said  Celia, 
but  he  made  no  answer. 

Then  she  decided  to  break  the  lock,  so  running 
home,  she  got  a  hammer,  and  a  very  heavy  iron 
spike.  She  thought  it  only  right  to  open  the  box 
on  the  beach,  in  the  presence  of  the  seal,  for  she 
could  not  help  feeling  that  he  would  be  as  much 
interested  as  she  to  see  what  it  contained. 

And  indeed  he  seemed  to  be,  and  sat  there 
breathing  hard,  with  his  big  eyes  fixed  steadily  on 
the  little  girl  who,  with  beating  hearty  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  prying  open  the  lock.  Lifting  the  lid, 
Celia  and  Soft-Eyes  looked  in,   and   saw,   fitted 


44  Tula  Oolah. 

neatly  into  the  box,  another,  exactly  like  the  first 
Taking  it  out,  they  found  that  that  too  was  locked. 
Placing  it  on  the  rock  between  herself  and  Soft- 
Eyes,  Celia  looked  through  the  key-hole,  but  could 
see  nothing. 

Suddenly  both  she  and  the  seal  started  back, 
and  looked  in  terror  at  the  box,  for  from  it  came 
an  awful  sound,  as  of  some  one  in  distress  I  The 
voice  was  soft  and  muffled,  and  sounded  like  a 
child  moaning.  The  seal  was  so  much  alarmed, 
that  he  scuttled  off,  and  was  about  to  jump  into 
the  water,  when  poor  little  Celia  called  piteously 
to  him. 

**  Come  back,  Soft-Eyes,"  she  said,  "  don't 
leave  me  all  alone  with  this  thing,  whatever  it 
is,"  and  the  seal,  who,  at  heart,  was  ashamed  of 
his  cowardice,  came  back,  though  with  evident  re- 
luctance. 

"Now,"  said  Celia,  "whatever  is  in  this,  is 
small,  and  I  am  sure  can't  hurt  us  much,  and  I 
am  going  to  find  out  what  it  is." 

So  with  some  difficulty,  she  broke  the  lock  and, 
saw  still  another  box  !    At  this,  both  she  and  Soft- 


Tula  Oolah.  45 

Eyes  felt  relieved.  The  seal  came  quite  near,  and 
even  bravely  smelt  of  it,  which,  after  all,  was  a 
good  deal  for  him  to  do,  as  he  was  frightened  al- 
most out  of  his  wits. 

Celia  lifted  the  third  box  out,  and  now  the  cries 
of  the  creature,  or  whatever  it  was,  inside,  grew 
very  loud.  This  box  differed  from  the  others,  be- 
ing made  of  brass,  prettily  ornamented  with  scroll- 
work. It  was  quite  dry,  all  the  boxes  being  so 
tightly  fitted  into  each  other,  that  the  sea-water 
had  been  unable  to  force  its  way  in. 

This,  too,  was  locked,  but  its  key  hung  on  the 
handle  at  the  side.  Unlocking  it,  Celia  opened  the 
lid  very  cautiously.  The  seal,  meanwhile,  had  gone 
to  the  edge  of  the  rock  again,  ready  to  at  once 
jump  into  the  water,  should  an  enemy  spring  out 
upon  them.  But  as  nothing  of  the  kind  happened, 
curiosity  got  the  better  of  him,  and  joining  Celia, 
they  both  looked  into  the  box  together,  and  saw, 
standing  in  the  middle  of  it,  an  elephant  about 
eight  inches  long  !  1 

He  was  exquisitely  made  and  his  wee  trunk 
was  waving  restlessly  from  side  to  side,  while  he 


46  Tula  Oolah. 

moaned  piteously,  "  Tula  Oolah,  Tula  Oolah," 
over  and  over  again.  Celia  lifted  him  out  of 
the  box  on  to  her  lap,  and  found  to  her  aston- 
ishment, that  he  was  not  alive,  but  was  made  of 
some  hard  metal — brass,  she  thought,  for  the  color 
was  yellow. 

"  But,  if  he  is  not  alive,  then  how  can  he  wave 
his  trunk  and  talk?  And  what,  Soft-Eyes,  oh, 
what  is  he  saying?" 

But  of  course  the  seal  did  n't  know,  and  he 
evidently  did  not  like  the  looks  of  the  uncanny 
little  elephant  at  all,  for  as  the  small  creature 
raised  his  voice,  and  said  louder  and  with  still 
more  piteous  sound,  "Tula  Oolah,"  Soft-Eyes 
gave  a  yell  of  terror,  jumped  into  the  water,  and 
for  three  days  Celia  saw  nothing  of  him  ! 

She  put  the  poor  little  animal  back  into  the 
brass  box,  and  locking  it,  carried  it  home  and  put 
it  on  the  table.  Her  mother  was  away  for  the 
whole  day,  and  Celia  ran  to  the  cupboard,  and 
took  out  the  glass  of  milk,  which  had  been  left 
there  for  her  dinner.  She  poured  a  little  into  a 
saucer. 


4 


48  Tula  Oolah. 

"He  must  be  hungry,"  she  said,  "and  perhaps 
*  Tula  Oolah '  means  '  give  me  food  '  in  the  ele- 
phant language." 

But  when  she  took  the  little  creature  out  and 
offered  him  the  milk,  he  did  not  take  it,  and  'twas 
the  same  with  the  bread  she  then  gave  him. 

"Oh,  what  can  it  be  that  you  want?"  said 
tender  hearted  Celia,  who  was  greatly  distressed 
by  its  evident  grief. 

"Tula  Oolah,"  was  the  answer. 

At  last  she  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  lock- 
ing the  elephant  in  his  box,  she  went  off  for  drift- 
wood, taking  her  lunch  with  her,  for  she  meant  to 
wait  till  her  mother  came  home  before  going  into 
the  house,  and  listening  again  to  that  pitiful  cry. 
She  gathered  a  great  deal  of  wood,  which  she  piled 
neatly  in  the  shed  at  the  back  of  the  cottage. 

At  last,  when  the  sun  began  to  go  down,  Celia 
saw  her  mother  coming,  far  down  the  beach,  and 
ran  to  meet  her.  Her  mother  was  much  as- 
tonished, when  she  heard  the  story  of  the  elephant, 
and  much  more  astonished  when  she  saw  the  little 
animal  herself,  and  listened  to  his  moaning  cry. 


Tula  Oolah.  49 

"Celia,"  said  she,  "perhaps  he  is  talking  French. 
Now,  there  is  a  French  gentleman  at  the  hotel, 
and  to-morrow  I  will  ask  him  to  come  and  see 
the  elephant,  and  perhaps  he  can  understand 
him." 

So  the  next  morning  at  about  ten  Professor 
Turier  came  to  the  cottage. 

"Where  ees  de  leedle  elephante?"  said  he, 
and  when  he  saw  him,  he  began : 

"  Bonjour,  vous  parlez  Francais?" 

"Tula  Oolah,"  answered  the  elephant. 

"Que  voulez-vous ? "  continued  the  French 
gentleman,  and  "Tula  Oolah,"  moaned  the  ele- 
phant. 

At  last  the  Frenchman  went  away,  and  told 
all  the  people  at  the  hotel  what  he  had  seen. 
Among  them  was  a  German. 

"  I  vill  minezelf  haf  von  gonverzazhuns  mit  dot 
leedle  elephantchen,"  said  he,  and  followed  by 
the  two  hundred  and  thirty  guests  of  the  hotel, 
he  went  to  the  cottage. 

"  Nun,  elephantchen,"  said  he,  when  he  and 
each  of  the  two  hundred  and  thirty  guests  had 


50  Tula  Oolah. 

satisfied  their  curiosity  by   looking  at   the  mar- 
vellous little  animal.     "Wie  geht's?" 

"Tula  Oolah,"  was  the  answer. 

"So?  Kannst  also  kein  Deutsch  sprechen? 
Don't  shpeak  chermans,  eh?"  enquired  the  Ger- 
man gentleman,  sadly. 

"Tula  Oolah,"  replied  the  elephant  with  equal 
sadness,  and  so  the  interview  ended. 

Then  one  of  the  ladies  advised  Celia's  mothei 
to  take  him  to  the  gang  of  Italians  who  were  work- 
ing on  the  bridge  below  the  hotel. 

"What  he  says  sounds  to  me  like  Italian,"  sh( 
said.  But  when  the  Italians  heard  the  "Tuk 
Oolah"  they  could  make  nothing  of  it,  nor  die 
the  elephant  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  them, 
although  they  talked  loudly  and  all  together. 

At  last  the  landlord  said,  "  Mrs.  Cameron,  to- 
morrow a  gentleman,  a  Mr.  Newcombe,  is  coming 
here,  who  understands  elephants — I  mean  real 
ones.  He  has  lived  in  India  for  many  years.  He, 
I  think,  will  be  able  to  help  you." 

When  Mr.  Newcombe  arrived,  he  heard  about 
the  little  elephant,  first  from  the  clerk,  and  then 


Tula  Oolah.  51 

from  each  of  the  two  hundred  and  thirty  guests, 
and  the  following  day,  the  procession,  he  leading 
it,  came  to  the  cottage,  and  he  at  last  was  able  to 
help  them. 

**Tula  Oolah?"  he  said  enquiringly  to  the 
elephant,  and  "Tula  Oolah,"  answered  the  little 
creature,  no  longer  sadly  but  joyfully. 

"  I  understand  him,"  said  Mr.  Newcombe. 
"  He  is  speaking  the  language  of  a  people  who 
live  in  the  southeastern  part  of  northwestern 
Hindoostan.  Now,  it  happens  that  I  lived  right 
among  those  very  people  for  several  years,  and 
am  glad  you  came  to  me,  as  I  am  probably  the 
only  man  in  this  country  who  can  speak  and 
understand  their  language." 

"Then  what,  oh  what,  is  he  saying?"  asked 
Celia,  and  her  mother,  and  the  two  hundred  and 
thirty  guests. 

"He  says  'tula  oolah,'  which  means  'put  me 
in  the  water'  " 

"  But  what  for  ? "  said  Celia  and  the  two 
hundred  and  thirty,  but  Mrs.  Cameron  ran  at 
once  to  fill  her  largest  tub  with  water.     When  it 


52  Tula  Oolah. 

was  full,  little  Celia  dropped  the  elephant,  who 
was  now  shrieking  "Tula  Oolah,  Tula  Oolah,"  joy- 
fully, and  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  into  the  middle 
of  the  tub !  The  minute  his  feet  touched  the 
water,  he  raised  his  trunk,  threw  his  head  back 
and  gave  vent  to  a  most  ear-piercing  shriek! 
How  such  a  small  creature  could  produce  such 
a  sound,  was  hard  to  understand,  and  the 
German  gentleman  and  the  French  gentleman, 
were  so  much  alarmed,  that  they  immediately  ran 
out  of  the  cottage  ! 

The  two  hundred  and  thirty  guests  who  were 
waiting  outside,  hearing  the  loud  cry,  and  seeing 
the  two  frightened  gentlemen,  who  were  evi- 
dently bent  on  getting  away  as  quickly  as  possible, 
became  alarmed  too,  and  ran  for  their  lives,  and 
the  beach  was  soon  quite  deserted.  In  the  cottage 
itself,  only  Celia  and  her  mother  and  the  ex- 
Indian  gentleman  were  left,  and  they  all  stood 
there,  watching  carefully  the  wee  elephant,  to  see 
what  would  happen  next. 

He  swam  lazily  round  the  tub  three  times, 
trumpeting  loudly  and  apparently  having  a  very 


Tula  Oolah.  53 

fine  time.  The  water  in  the  tub,  meanwhile,  had 
begun  to  change.  It  had  grown  quite  thick — like 
molasses,  and  was  of  a  bright  yellow  color.  After 
the  elephant  had  been  round  the  three  times,  he 
swam  slowly  to  the  middle.  There  he  remained 
for  fully  a  minute,  trumpeting  occasionally,  but 
more  softly,  while  the  water  grew  constantly 
thicker  and  yellower. 

At  last,  raising  his  trunk  once  more,  he  said 
softly  and  very  sadly,  ''Oolah,"  and  then  began 
slowly  to  sink ! 

"Oh,"  screamed  Celia,  "he  is  drowning,"  and 
she  put  out  her  hand  to  save  him,  but  the  gentle- 
man prevented  her,  reminding  her  that  the  little 
creature  was  not  really  alive. 

"  I  think  I  know  all  about  this,  but  wait,"  he 
said. 

Down,  down,  down  went  the  elephant,  till 
only  the  very  top  of  his  head  could  be  seen. 
Then  that  too  disappeared,  leaving  only  a  little 
depression.  At  this  the  three  looked  for  a 
moment,  till  even  that  vanished,  and  the  tub  stood 
there  filled  with  a  solid  yellow  mass  of  something. 


54  Tula  Oolah. 

It  was  perfectly  hard  and  smooth  and  looked  like 
burnished  brass.  They  tried  to  lift  it,  but  found 
it  so  heavy  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  them 
to  move  it.  Mr.  Newcombe  then  hurried  away, 
and  soon  returned  with  a  chemist  who  examined 
carefully  what  was  in  the  tub,  and  pronounced  it 
to  be  pure  gold  !  , 

They  were  all,  of  course,  very,  very  much  sur-  * 
prised,  except,  indeed,  Mr.  Newcombe. 

*'  I  suspected  this  might  be  gold,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  will  tell  you  why.  I  have,  as  I  told  you,  lived 
among  the  people  in  the  southeastern  part  of 
northwestern  Hindoostan,  the  country  from  which 
this  elephant  probably  originally  came.  It  is  a 
mountainous  region,  and  the  people  live  isolated 
lives.  They  have  many  interesting  legends  which 
have  been  handed  down  from  father  to  son,  and 
among  them  one  that  I  think  may  apply  to  this 
case."  Then  Mr.  Newcombe  translated  the  legend 
for  them : 

"  If  you  find  an  elephant,  made  of  brass, 

An  elephant  small  and  old — 
Through  *  Oolah  ' — the  water — allow  him  to  pass 

And  the  Oolah  shall  turn  to  gold ' 


Tula  Oolah.  55 

"This  little  elephant  is  undoubtedly  one  of  that 
kind,  and  is  probably  many  hundred  years  old." 

The  gold  was  broken  into  small  pieces,  so  that 
it  could  be  more  easily  carried  away  and  sold. 
Celia  insisted  on  staying  in  the  roomv  while  this 
was  being  done,  for  she  could  not  help  feeling 
that  somewhere  in  it  she  should  find  the  elephant. 
But  they  did  not  find  him,  although  in  breaking 
the  last  bit  of  gold,  which  had  been  in  the  middle 
at  the  very  bottom  of  the  mass,  they  came  upon 
two  tiny  tusks  !  And  that  was  all  that  was  left  of 
the  Tula  Oolah  elephant. 

The  gold  proved  to  be  very  pure  and  when 
sold  was  worth  a  great  many  thousand  dollars,  so 
that  Celia  and  her  mother  became  very  rich 
people.  They  gave  a  large  lump  of  it  to  Mr. 
Newcombe,  for  without  his  help  they  might  never 
have  got  the  gold  at  all,  and  they  were  very 
grateful  to  him.  They  built  a  beautiful  house  on 
the  beach  so  that  Celia  could  always  be  near  her 
dear  friend,  Soft-Eyes,  the  seal,  who  had  brought 
all  this  good  fortune  to  his  dear  little  friend. 


THE  N.  S.  BICYCLE. 

GORDON  RANDALL  had  had  some  money 
given  him  to  buy  a  bicycle  which  he  was  to 
choose  himself. 

**  Now,  Gordon,"  said  his  mother,  as  he  started 
off  for  the  shop,  "  if  there  is  anything  about  the 
bicycle  that  you  do  not  understand,  make  them 
explain  it  to  you.  Do  not  be  afraid  to  ask  ques- 
tions." 

And  Gordon  promised  to  be  very  careful.  In 
about  an  hour  back  he  came,  radiant. 

**  I  have  bought  one.  Mamma,  and  oh,  such  a 
beauty  you  never  saw.  The  man  is  to  oil  it  and 
send  it  up  this  afternoon,  and  oh,  Mamma,  I 
am  so  happy." 

When    the    bicycle  came,    Mrs.    Randall    was 

delighted    with     the  machine,    which   seemed    to 

be  a  very  fine  one. 

56 


The  N.  S.  Bicycle.  57 

"You  have  evidently  made  a  good  choice.  But, 
Gordon,"  said  she,  "what  are  those  two  letters 
*  N.  S.'  engraved  on  the  handle  ?  What  do  they 
mean  ?  " 

"Why,"  said  Gordon,  "I  don't  know.  Per- 
haps they  are  the  initials  of  the  maker,  but  (hanging 
his  head  shamefacedly)  I  really  did  not  see  them 
before,  or  I  should  surely  have  asked,  as  you  bade 
me.  But,  Mamma,  I  will  ride  down  at  once  to  the 
shop  on  my  new  machine  and  ask  the  man." 

"Very  well,"  said  his  mother,  "but  be  quick, 
dear,  for  your  supper  will  be  ready  before  long." 

So  off  went  Gordon,  his  little  heart  swelling 
with  pride.  He  rode  well,  having  ridden  a  good 
deal  before,  but  never  on  such  a  beautiful  machine, 
so  light,  yet  so  strong.  "And  it  is  mine,  my 
very  own,"  he  shouted  in  great  delight.  Soon 
he  came  to  the  shop,  and  carefully  guiding  his 
machine  to  the  sidewalk,  tried  to  go  more  slowly, 
when  to  his  horror  he  found  he  could  not !  The 
I  wheels  refused  to  stop.  Round  and  round  they 
I  went,  faster  than  ever,  and  poor  Gordon  was  carried 
by  the  shop  in  spite  of  himself !    On  and  on  he  went, 


58  The  N.  S.  Bicycle. 

and  round  and  round  went  his  poor,  unwilling, 
little  legs,  while  his  heart  beat  "  thump,  thump," 
in  his  terror.  By  the  post-office,  by  the  station  he 
shot,  and  on  and  on,  far,  far  away  from  his  home  I 
The  town  was  left  behind,  and  now  he  found  him- 
Belf  on  a  quiet  country  road.  He  tried  again  and 
again  to  make  the  bicycle  go  more  slowly,  but 
no,  it  absolutely  refused  to  obey  him.  Gordon, 
who  had  only  ridden  the  ordinary  bicycles  before, 
did  not  know  what  to  do  to  force  this  dreadful 
creature  to  do  his  bidding.  To  his  delight,  he  now 
saw  before  him  a  very  high,  steep  hill.  J 

'*  Ha,  ha,  Mr.  Bicycle,"  said  he,  "your  run  will 
come  to  an  end  here,  I  fancy." 

But  when  they  reached  the  hill,  if  you  will  be- 
lieve me,  the  bicycle  did  not  even  seem  to  see  that 
there  was  a  hill  there,  for  he  ran  right  up  the  steep 
incline,  as  if  it  were  the  most  level  bicycle  track  in 
the  world. 

"Oh  dear,  oh  dear,"  said  Gordon,  "will  nothing 
stop  it,  and  must  I  go  on  forever  ?  Why,  it  may 
run  on  for  years,  and  till  I  am  an  old,  old  man,  and 
how  strange  it  will  look  to  see  a  white-haired  man 


The  N.  S.  Bicycle. 


59 


riding  on  a  small  boy's  bicycle,  and  riding  so 
awfully  fast,  too.  I  wonder  if  kind  people  will 
take  pity  on  me  and  throw  food  to  me  as  I  pass  ?" 


6o  The  N.  S.  Bicycle. 

Poor  Gordon's  supper  time  was  now  long  past, 
and  he  began  to  feel  very  hungry,  you  see.  A 
dreadful  thought  suddenly  came  to  him — "  If  I 
go  on  at  this  pace  I  am  sure  that  in  a  few  days 
the  land  will  give  out,  and  then  I  suppose  I 
shall  have  to  ride  right  into  the  ocean."  At  this 
fearful  idea,  Gordon's  tears  began  to  flow.  He 
was  now  approaching  a  large  town  and  every  one 
he  met  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  for  to  see  a  ten- 
year-old  boy  on  a  bicycle  riding  so  wonderfully 
fast,  and  crying  as  if  his  heart  would  break,  was  a 
strange  sight  truly. 

"Where  are  you  going,  little  boy?"  they 
cried. 

**  I  am  sure,  I  don't  know,"  said  Gordon,  and 
before  they  could  say  any  more  he  was  gone.  He 
passed  a  big  railway  station  and  saw  by  its  sign 
that  he  was  in  the  town  of  Boreborough,  /brfy 
miles  from  his  home,  and  at  this  his  tears  again 
gushed  forth. 

"Wot  yer  cryin'  'bout?"  said  a  very  small  and 
very  dirty  boy,  who  was  playing  in  the  street. 
"Yer  a  great  big  cry-baby,  an'  yer 'd  better  turn 


The  N.  S.  Bicycle.  6i 

round  an'  go  home  ter  yer  ma,"  and  the  small  boy 
threw,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  a  handful  of  mud  at 
poor  Gordon. 

But  Gordon  did  not  mind  that  at  all,  for  at 
the  boy's  words,  an  idea  had  come  to  him. 
What  was  it  he  had  said  ?  **  Turn  round  and  go 
home."  Now  was  it  not  just  possible  that  he 
might  do  this  ?  He  knew  that  he  could  guide 
the  bicycle,  even  if  he  could  not  stop  it,  and  why 
could  he  not  turn  it  entirely  round  ?  It  was 
certainly  worth  trying,  and  if  you  will  believe  me, 
the  idea  of  doing  so  had  not  once  come  to  him  till 
the  dirty  little,  mud-throwing  boy  had  spoken. 
He  waited  till  he  came  to  a  wide,  free  space  and 
began  to  turn.  "  Hurrah,"  he  shouted  as  he 
found  the  machine  obeyed  him  beautifully  and 
came  about  with  no  trouble.  He  was  very  much 
ashamed  to  think  that  he  had  not  thought  before 
of  this  simple  way  out  of  his  difficulty. 

He  was  now  on  his  way  back,  going  as  fast 
as  ever,  but  no  longer  crying.  He  was  now 
fairly  shouting  in  his  delight.  Passing  the  small 
boy  again,  he  called  out,  "  Thank  you,  thank  you," 


62  The  N.  S.  Bicycle. 

and  to  this  day  that  boy  does  not  know  what  it 
was  that  Gordon  thanked  him  for.  Back  over  the 
same  road  he  flew,  and  ah,  so  willingly  now.  Past 
many  twinkling  electric  lights,  then  out  of  the  big- 
town,  and  on  to  the  quiet  country  road  again 
where  the  trees  looked  very  tall  and  black  in  the 
darkness.  Gordon  was  not  very  old,  and  he  was 
afraid  to  be  out  on  that  lonely  road  alone,  but 
he  kept  saying  to  himself,  '*I  shall  soon  be  at 
home."  He  passed  through  many  small  towns, 
then  through  the  long,  dark,  wooden  bridge  that 
spanned  the  river  Nokowi,  which  he  could  hear 
rushing  and  tumbling  far  beneath,  hurrying  on  to 
the  sea.  And  then  at  last  he  saw  the  lights  of  his 
own  dear  home,  twinkling  in  the  distance. 

Down  into  the  middle  of  the  town  he  went,  by 
the  station,  post-office,  and  shop  where  he  had 
bought  this  terrible  machine,  and  at  last  he  came 
to  his  home.  Turning  in  at  the  gate,  and  gather- 
ing his  little  remaining  strength,  he  made  a  tre- 
mendous effort  and  jumped  from  the  bicycle. 

And  the  bicycle,  what  do  you  think  it  did  ?  It 
stopped    short,    and  stood  perfectly  still,   leaning 


The  N.  S.  Bicycle.  63 

against  the  piazza,  and  looking  as  good  and  de- 
mure as  any  ordinary  machine  could  do.  But 
Gordon  did  not  trust  it,  and  running  to  the  stable, 
got  a  strong  rope  and  tied  it  firmly  to  the  piazza 
post.  Then  he  went  in  to  his  mother,  whom  he 
found  sobbing  bitterly.  Running  to  her  and 
throwing  his  arms  about  her,  he  told  her  the  whole 
wonderful  story,  and  oh,  how  glad  she  was  to 
see  him. 

''And  I  thought,"  she  said,  "that  I  had  lost 
my  dear  boy.  Men  are  searching  for  you  in  every 
direction,  while  you,  poor  little  fellow,  were  in 
Boreborough,  forty  miles  away." 

She  kissed  him  again  and  again  and  after  he 
had  eaten  something,  for  he  was  faint  with  hun- 
ger, he  went  to  bed  and  slept  till  eleven  o'clock 
the  next  day. 

"  Now,  Gordon,"  said  his  mother,  **  the  first 
thing  to  do  is  to  make  the  shop-man  take  back 
the  bicycle.  I  will  go  with  you  and  help  you  pull 
it,  for  you  must  not  get  on  it  again,"  and  Gordon 
was  very  willing  to  obey. 

So  they  led  the  machine  back»  and  it  did  not 


64  The  N.  S.  Bicycle. 

seem  at  all  ashamed,  but  held  its  bright  nickel- 
plated  head  up  proudly,  as  if  it  were  a  very  remark- 
able machine,  and  truly  I  think  it  was,  don't  you? 

When  they  got  to  the  shop  and  told  their  story 
to  the  man,  he  said:  "Why  I  supposed  the  boy 
wanted  one  of  the  N.  S.  machines." 

"And  what  does  *  N.  S.'  mean?"  said  Gordon. 

"Mean?"  said  the  man.  '"  N.  S.'  means 
Never  Stop.  They  never  stop,  you  see,  till  you 
jump  off." 

"Indeed  they  don't,"  said  Gordon,  "you  are 
quite  right,  and  I  think  '  Never  Stop '  is  a  very 
good  name  for  them." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Randall,  "  I  think  that  both 
my  son  and  I  would  prefer  the  ordinary  bicycle." 

So  the  man  exchanged  the  remarkable  "  N.  S." 
bicycle  for  a  common  one,  which  is  perfectly  willing 
to  stop  whenever  its  little  master  tells  it  to. 

And  do  you  know,  the  manufacturers  found  that 
no  one  would  buy  the  N.  S.  machines,  so  they  gave 
up  making  them  some  time  ago,  and  now,  no  mat- 
ter where  you  try,  you  will  find  it  impossible  to  buy 
an  N.  S.  bicycle. 


THE  TIGER  ON  THE  HUDSON. 

HARRY  was  spending  his  Christmas  vacation 
at  Uncle  Ned's.  Uncle  Ned  had  a  fine 
place  on  the  Hudson,  a  place  dear  to  the 
boy's  heart.  There  was  always  sure  to  be  snow 
there  long  after  it  had  left  other  places.  There 
were  horses,  which  meant  sleigh-rides,  unlimited 
hills,  which  meant  coasting,  and  lastly  dear  Uncle 
Ned  and  Aunt  Susie,  who  had  no  children  of  their 
own,  and  who  were  very,  very  fond  of  their  nephew. 
In  the  house  Harry's  favorite  room  was  his  uncle's 
"  den,"  which  by  the  way  was  n't  a  den  at  all,  but 
the  biggest  room  in  the  house.  The  walls  were 
covered  with  guns,  bows  and  arrows,  odd-looking 
swords,  and  pictures  of  strange  places  and  animals, 
for  Uncle  Ned  had  been  a  great  traveller,  and  had 

been  at  the  places  and  seen  the  animals  himself: 
8  ^ 


66  The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson. 

and  as  he  had  a  big  stock  of  hair-bristling  stories 
to  tell  about  his  thrilling  adventures  and  escapes, 
he  was  a  rare  companion.  There  was  a  wide  fire- 
place in  the  room,  a  good  fireplace,  which  knew  its 
duty,  and  performed  it  well,  taking  its  smoke 
decently  up  the  chimney  and  not  spitting  it  out  into 
the  room,  as  so  many  spiteful  fireplaces  do.  There 
was  no  carpet  on  the  floor,  but  across  one  end  of 
the  room  lay  a  magnificent  rug,  the  skin  of  a 
"  Royal  Bengal  Tiger,"  which  measured  ten  feet 
from  tip  to  tip.  Uncle  Ned  had  killed  the  tiger 
himself,  although  Harry  had  never  heard  the  story. 

One  time  in  the  summer,  when  his  uncle  and  he 
were  bathing,  Harry  had  seen  on  his  uncle's  arm  a 
long,  cruel  red  scar,  extending  from  shoulder  to 
wrist.     "What  is  that?"  said  the  boy. 

**The  Bengal  tiger  and  I  know  all  about  that," 
was  the  answer,  ''  and  when  you  are  ten  years  old, 
I  will  tell  you  the  story.  You  are  too  young 
now." 

And  Harry  had  not  forgotten.  He  was  ten 
years  old,  on  the  twelfth  of  December,  and  his  first 
question  to  his  uncle,  when  he  came  this  time  for 


The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson.  67 

his  Christmas  holidays  was:  ''Will  you  tell  me 
the  story  of  the  tiger,  Uncle,  for  I  am  now  ten, 
you  know?" 

I  Uncle  Ned  smiled,  and  said  :  "  Come  into  my 
den  at  five  this  afternoon,  and  I  will  tell  you  all 
about  it." 

So  after  luncheon,  and  after  two  hours  spent 
in  coasting,  Harry  went  to  the  den.  His  uncle 
had  not  yet  come  in,  and  he  found,  on  looking  at 
the  funny  little  bronze  clock  on  the  mantelpiece, 
that  it  was  only  quarter-past  four. 

Harry  was  tired,  and  threw  himself  into  Uncle 
Ned's  big  leather  chair  to  wait.  It  had  already 
grown  quite  dark  outside,  for  the  December  days 
were  short.  But  the  room  was  not  dark,  for  there 
was  a  glorious  fire,  blazing  triumphantly  up  the 
chimney,  shining  upon  all  the  curious  interesting 
things  in  the  room,  and  showing  distinctly  each 
mark,  spot,  and  stripe  on  the  beautiful  tiger-skin. 

The  tiger's  head  had  been  stuffed,  and  two 
fearfully  life-like,  green  eyes  had  been  placed  in  it 
Harry  used  to  be  quite  afraid  to  look  into  them, 
they   were  so  awfully  real.     He   was    looking  at 


68         The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson. 

them  now  when,  suddenly,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  in 
unutterable  horror,  for  he  saw  that  the  eyes  had 
begun  to  rnove  I  Slowly,  slowly  they  looked  round 
the  room,  and  rested  at  last,  upon  him  ! 

He  met  their  gaze,  and  having  once  looked 
into  those  cruel,  green  glaring  eyes,  he  was  en- 
tirely unable  to  move.  For  fully  a  minute  did 
those  two  stare  at  each  other  silently,  while  the 
small  bronze  clock  ticked  busily  on,  and  the  fire 
snapped  and  crackled  its  way  merrily  up  the  wide 
chimney.  Then  the  Tiger  opened  his  mouth,  and 
in  a  rough,  hoarse  voice  spoke  : 

"I  heard  your  uncle  say  that  he  would  tell  you 
how  I,  the  king  of  beasts,  the  Royal  Bengal  Tiger 
came  to  lie  here.  I  will  tell  you  first  my  side  of 
the  story.  Sit  still  and  listen "  (and,  indeed, 
Harry  was  quite  unable  to  do  anything  else). 

"  My  home  was  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
Ganges.  I  had  a  beautiful  wife  and  three  beautiful 
children."  (Here  the  Tiger's  voice  became  husky.) 
"  We  had  a  happy  home,"  he  continued,  "  near  an 
old  deserted  temple.  Plenty  of  water  we  had,  a 
pleasant  climate  and  enough  to  eat.     There  was  a 


s 


70  The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson. 

village  not  very  far  away  and  there  were  herds  of 
cattle,  stray  monkeys,  and  occasional  children. 
Ah,  those  happy  days,  long-gone,  long-gone." 
(The  Tiger  seemed  to  be  full  of  feeling.)  "  Each 
morning  we  all  went  down  to  the  river  Ganges  for 
a  drink,  I  leading  the  way,  followed  by  my  gentle 
wife  and  my  three  beautiful  children.  Then  back 
again,  and  if  game  was  at  hand,  and  I  kept  the 
larder  well  stocked,  we  ate  our  breakfast.  My  wife 
was  busy  all  the  morning,  teaching  the  little  ones 
to  hunt,  and  they  did  well,  the  dear  little  things — 
they  were  my  children.  They  killed  the  smaller 
creatures,  and  once,  one  of  them,  perhaps  the 
bravest  of  the  three,  brought  in  a  small  monkey, 
which  he  himself  had  killed,  unaided.  You  can 
imagine  what  a  proud  day  that  was  for  his  mother 
and  me.  Oh,  my  tender  wife,  and  innocent 
children,  where  are  you  now  ?"  (Here  the  Tiger 
sobbed  aloud.) 

"Well,"  he  continued,  when  able  to  speak, 
''one  night  I  was  crouching  near  the  village, 
watching  for  prey,  when  I  overheard  a  conversation 
between    two    natives.     It    seemed    that  a  white 


The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson.  71 

man  had  arrived  at  the  village  the  night  before, 
and  that  he  intended  to  make  an  end  of  me  and 
my  family  !  Oh,  how  I  roared  in  my  rage,  when 
I  heard  that.  How  I  lashed  my  tail  from  side 
to  side,  as  I  hurried  home  to  tell  my  wife. 

**  *  Shall  we  not  all  go  farther  into  the  thicker 
denser  forest,'  said  she,  'farther  from  the  haunts 
of  man  ? ' 

"■  But  I  turned  fiercely  upon  her.  '  I  will  de- 
fend you,'  I  roared,  'I  will  defend  you.' 

"Three  days  after  this,  I  was  taking  a  nap  in 
a  clump  of  bushes,  when  I  heard  an  odd  crackling 
noise.  Keeping  perfectly  still,  I  crouched  and 
listened.  The  boughs  directly  over  my  head  were 
now  parted,  and  there  stood  a  man,  not  two  feet 
away !  Never  had  I  been  so  near  a  man  before. 
He  was  a  native,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  have  a 
strange  effect  on  me,  for  when  I  looked  into  them, 
I  was  powerless  to  move.  He  grew  very  pale,  and 
his  teeth  chattered,  but  he  kept  his  eyes  steadily 
fixed  on  me,  while  he  slowly,  slowly  moved  back- 
wards. When  I  could  no  longer  see  those  strange 
eyes,  I  sprang,  but  alas,  not  upon  him !     He  had 


72  The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson. 

just  escaped  me,  and  was  running  for  his  life. 
I  was  after  him  like  a  flash,  when  suddenly,  I 
saw  a  white  man  standing  directly  in  my  way, 
and  who  did  not  seem  in  the  least  afraid.  At 
this,  my  rage  knew  no  bounds,  for  men  always 
fled  from  me  in  terror.  I  lashed  my  tail  savagely, 
growling  all  the  time.  I  opened  my  mouth  that  the 
white  man  might  see  my  long  pointed  teeth,  and  I 
put  my  gloriously  sharp  claws  in  and  out,  keeping 
my  eyes  upon  him  all  the  time.  He  was  a  tall, 
thin  man,  with  brown  fur  covering  the  lower  part 
of  his  face.  Why  did  he  stand  so  fearlessly  there  ? 
How  did  he  dare  to  brave  me  ?  In  his  hand  he 
held  a  common  black  stick,  which  he  had  raised  to 
his  shoulder  and  held  pointed  at  me.  Roaring 
louder  in  my  rage,  I  crouched  lower  and  lower, 
and  then  gathering  myself  together,  was  just  about 
to  spring  upon  him,  when  suddenly,  without  a 
moment's  warning,  the  common  little  black  stick 
in  the  man's  hand,  bftrst ! !  Out  of  the  end 
rushed  fire  and  flame.  Bang!  Bang  I — some- 
thing hit  me — a  red  cloud  came  before  my  eyes — 
I  knew  no  more.     And  that  's  how  I  came  to  be 


The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson.  ^-^ 

here.  The  next  thing  I  knew,  I  was  lying  in  this 
quiet  room,  with  new  eyes  and  ears  (oh,  why  did 
they  take  from  me  my  beautiful  ears  ?)  and  here 
I  have  been  ever  since.  I  am  not  the  tiger  I  was, 
and  yet  I  should  n't  wonder  if  after  all,  there  were 
enough  of  me  left  to  attack — say — a  small  boy  I '' 

Harry  began  to  feel  exceedingly  uncomforta- 
ble at  these  words.  The  tiger's  voice,  which  had 
been  soft,  now  grew  louder. 

"  I  am  hungry — I  have  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
ten  long  years.  /  am  hungry,''  he  repeated,  and 
this  time  his  voice  rose  almost  to  a  roar. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  in  the  room 
and  then  Harry,  who  was  staring,  fascinated,  saw 
that  the  creature  was  actually  coming  toward  him ! 
Slowly  he  crept,  his  long  white  teeth  gleaming  in 
the  firelight,  and  his  big  green  eyes  snapping 
angrily. 

*'  Yes,  I  am  HUNGRY,"  he  roared,  for  the 
third  time,  and  then  poor  Harry  realized  what  the 
tiger's  horrible  intention  was-r-to  satisfy  that  hun- 
ger, by  eating  him.  The  poor  boy's  teeth  chat- 
tered, he  trembled  violently.     In  another  minute 


74  The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson. 

the  creature  would  be  upon  him.     How  could  he 
defend  himself  ? 

The  poker !  Springing  to  his  feet  and  seizing 
the  big  iron  poker,  Harry  advanced  upon  the 
Tiger. 

Meantime,  the  shovel  and  tongs,  which  stood 
with  the  poker,  followed  the  law  of  all  fire- 
irons  and  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  hearth  !  Roused 
by  this  noise,  Harry  became  suddenly  conscious 
that  he  was  standing  quite  alone  in  the  room, 
fiercely  brandishing  the  poker  at — nothing  I  Rub- 
bing his  eyes  he  looked  about  him  at  the  quiet 
room,  at  the  fire  which  had  now  burned  low,  and 
lastly,  and  rather  timidly,  he  looked  at  the  tiger- 
skin  rug  lying  flatly  and  innocently  upon  the  floor. 
Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  he  heard  his 
uncle's  cheery  voice. 

"Well  boysie,  are  you  ready  for  the  grewsome 
tiger-tale?" 

**  Why  Uncle,"  said   Harry,  "I  have  just  heard 
it." 

**  Heard  it  ?  "  said  Uncle  Ned,  in  astonishment. 
**  From  whom  ?  " 


The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson.  75 

"From  the  tiger  himself."  And  then  Uncle 
Ned,  looking  more  carefully  at  the  boy's  flushed 
face,  and  tousled  hair,  laughed  long  and  loud. 
"You  were  dreaming,  little  boy,"  he  said,  at  last. 

*'0h,  Uncle,  it  was  too  real  to  be  a  dream,  I 
will    tell   you    about    it,"    and    he    told   him   all. 

When  he  had  finished.  Uncle  Ned  was  very 
much  astonished.  ''The  story  is  true,  just  as  it 
really  happened,"  said  he.  "  My  native  guide  came 
running  back  to  me  with  a  white  face,  shouting  *  the 
tiger,  the  tiger  ! '  when  out  he  sprang.  I  had  just 
time  to  put  my  gun  to  my  shoulder  and  fire. 
Fortunately,  my  aim  was  true,  for  he  fell  at  my 
feet.  I  did  not,  however,  know  about  Madam 
Tiger  or  the  three  little  Tigerses,  and  your  friend 
omitted  to  tell  you  that  before  we  parted  he  gave 
me  this,"  and  Uncle  Ned  showed  the  cruel  scar  on 
his  arm. 

"  I  went  up  to  him  as  he  lay  stretched  out  at 
full  length  on  the  ground,  supposing,  of  course, 
that  he  was  quite  dead,  and  he — ^well,  I  found  that 
he  was  n't.  But  in  the  main,  Harry,  the  story  is 
true,  just  as  I  would  have  told  it  myself,  and  it  is 


76  The  Tiger  on  the  Hudson. 

certainly  very  odd  that  you  should  have  dreamed 
it. 

The  following  year  Harry  visited  his  aunt  and 
uncle  in  September.  One  day  when  his  uncle  was 
in  his  den,  writing,  the  boy  came  in  with  three 
tiger-lilies.  Going  to  the  tiger,  he  placed  them 
under    his  paw. 

"And  why,  dear?"  said  his  uncle. 

**  Well,  Uncle,  I  know,  of  course,  that  he  was  a 
very  bad  tiger  to  scratch  you,"  said  Harry,  "but 
oh,  it  was  n't  the  fault  of  his  three  dear  little  baby 
tigers — and  he  loved  them  dearly — he  said  so  him- 
self, you  know,  and  so — I  brought  him  these  three 
tiger-lilies,  one  for  each." 


LUCIA,  THE   ORGAN-MAIDEN. 

NEVER  had  Pietro  Pitti  turned  out  such  a 
wonderful  hand-organ,  and  that  is  saying 
a  great  deal.  It  had  been  made  by  a 
new  man,  who  had  come  from  the  cold  North 
country,  and  who  had  been  with  Pitti  but  a  short 
time.  He  begged  to  be  allowed  to  make  the 
organ  himself. 

'*  I  have  an  idea,"  he  said,  **  which,  if  I  can 
but  carry  out,  will  make  you  famous,  master." 

**  I  have  fame  already,"  was  the  proud  answer. 

**Ah,  but  there  is  always  one  step  higher, 
master." 

''Make  the  organ  then,  as  you  will.  North- 
erner," said  Signor  Pitti,  and  the  young  man  had 
done  so. 

This  day  it  was  finished  and  was  to  be  tried 

•»2 


78  Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden. 

for  the  first  time.  Signer  and  Signora  Pitti  and 
the  children,  four  small  Pittises,  were  present, 
while  the  workmen  stood  in  the  background  ex- 
pectant, and  many  pairs  of  black  eyes  were  fixed 
eagerly  upon  the  hand-organ  which  was  brought 
in  by  the  Northerner.  The  covering  cloth  was 
removed.  The  organ  was  made  of  selected  rose- 
wood, which  Signor  Pitti  always  used,  and  was 
beautifully  polished.  But  it  differed  from  all  the 
other  organs,  for  in  front  was  a  glass  window, 
through  which  you  looked  into  a  beautiful  little 
room  hung  with  soft  pink  satin. 

"  A  doll's  room,  a  salon,''  cried  the  youngest 
Signorina  Pitti.  At  the  back  of  this  room  at  one 
side  was  a  door. 

'*  Well,  well,"  said  Signor  Pitti,  ''but  what — " 
"Patience,  master,  for  a  moment,"  said  the 
Northerner,  and  began  to  turn  the  handle  of  the 
organ.  It  played  a  march  through  well  and 
clearly,  and  in  perfect  time,  but  then  all  Signor 
Pitti's  organs  did  that.  Next  it  played  "  La  Bella 
Napoli."  Signor  and  Signora  smiled,  for  they 
loved  their  Naples  and  liked  to  hear  its  praises. 


PAOLO  AND  HIS  ORGAN.   PAGE  8l. 

7^ 


8o  Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden. 

Then  the  door  at  the  back  of  the  small  orphan- 
room  opened  slowly,  and  out  came  a  most  ex- 
quisite doll  about  ten  inches  high.  She  was 
dressed  in  pink  and  had  long  flowing  hair,  and  it 
was  really  hard  to  decide  whether  her  cheeks  were 
pinker  than  her  smile  was  broad,  or  her  smile 
broader  than  her  cheeks  were  pink — they  were 
both  unmistakable. 

Coming  forward  she  bowed  very  low  to  her 
audience,  and  as  they  saw  nothing  of  the  spring  in 
her  back,  or  the  wire  that  made  her  do  so,  they 
all  bowed  politely  in  return,  for  it  really  seemed  as 
if  she  must  be  alive.  Then  slowly,  gracefully,  the 
little  creature  danced  around  her  pink  drawing- 
room  in  perfect  time  to  the  music.  When  that  was 
finished  she  bowed  once  more,  the  door  at  the  back 
opened  and  she  disappeared. 

The  Pitti  family  were  delighted.  "Bella, 
Bella,  Wonderful,"  they  cried,  and  the  North- 
erner's fortune  was  made  from  that  day. 

The  organ  was  sold  to  one  Paolo  Cello  for 
quite  a  large  sum  of  money,  and  Lucia,  the  little 
dancing-lady,     danced     every     day    in     beautiful 


Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden.  8i 

Naples,  before  hundreds  of  people.  And  wherever 
she  appeared,  crowds  of  admirers  applauded  her. 

Sometimes  Paolo  and  she  would  go  to  some  of 
the  villas  in  the  neighborhood,  where  she  danced 
tirelessly,  under  trees  laden  with  big  yellow 
oranges,  and  with  flowers  of  all  colors  and  kinds 
growing  about  her. 

One  day  they  went  to  Pompeii  and  there,  out- 
side its  ruined  walls,  Lucia  danced  for  some 
foreigners,  in  full  sight  of  a  big  mountain  out  of 
which  smoke  was  coming  forever,  forever.  Lucia 
danced  and  Vesuvius  smoked,  each  attending  to 
its  own  business.  But  whenever  Lucia  danced, 
whether  before  strangers  or  dark-skinned  Italians, 
the  result  was  the  same — admiration.  And  Paolo 
came  to  love  the  little  creature  almost  as  if  she 
were  alive,  and  took  the  best  care  of  her. 

The  window  of  her  dancing-room,  and  the  room 
itself  were  spotless,  the  machinery  well  oiled,  and 
Paolo  was  always  very  careful  to  play  her  music 
in  good  time,  neither  too  fast  nor  too  slow — in 
dancing  so  much  depends  upon  the  music,  you 
know. 


82  Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden. 

Ah,  those  happy  days,  they  were  too  good  to 
last,  and  they  did  n't.  One  day  Paolo  was  taken 
ill. 

**  We  can't  go  out  to-day,  little  Lucia,"  he  said. 
He  often  talked  to  her  as  if  she  were  truly  alive, 
and  as  she  did  n't  know  she  was  n't,  perhaps  it 
was  just  as  well. 

Worse  and  worse  grew  Paolo,  as  he  lay  upon 
his  narrow  bed  in  his  one  small  room.  Gradually 
the  stock  of  money  which  he  and  Lucia  had  earned, 
dwindled,  disappeared.  One  by  one  the  bits  of 
furniture  had  to  be  sold.  Then  came  a  dreadful 
day  when  Paolo  pulled  up  the  little  window  and 
spoke  to  Lucia. 

"  It  almost  breaks  my  heart,"  he  said,  **but  we 
must  part,  you  and  I.  I  am  penniless.  A  man 
has  offered  me  a  big  sum  for  you.  But  I  have 
parted  with  everything  else  first,  Lucia  mia,"  and 
the  poor  fellow,  pointed  round  the  room,  which 
was  indeed  quite  empty,  save  for  the  bed  and 
organ.  "  But,  if  I  live,  I  shall  work  hard  and  try 
to  buy  you  back  again.  Remember  that,  Lucia." 
Then  Paolo  stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  no  one 


Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden.  83 

but  he  and  she  knew  of  that  big  hot  tear  which 
fell  on  her  cheek. 

Later,  a  man  knocked  at  the  door,  gave  money 
to  Paolo,  and  took  the  organ  away.  Then  followed 
unhappy  years  for  poor  Lucia.  Not  that  her  new 
master,  Antonio,  was  unkind — he  was  simply  a 
very  careless,  untidy  man.  He  left  the  organ 
standing  in  cold  places,  where  the  wind  crept  in 
and  chilled  her.  Once  he  left  the  organ  for  a 
while  in  the  street  on  a  stormy  day,  and  the  rain 
came  in  through  a  crack  in  the  case  and  dripped 
on  her  pretty  pink  cheeks.  The  color  ran,  and 
poor  Lucia  was  greatly  mortified,  and  looked  it, 
too.  Sometimes  Antonio  played  much  too  fast, 
and  Lucia  was,  of  course,  obliged  to  dance  fast, 
which,  as  she  was  a  person  of  much  natural  dignity, 
was  very  repulsive  to  her.  Sometimes  the  Master 
forgot  to  even  oil  the  machine,  and  once  he  put  in 
too  much  oil.  So  much  that  it  oozed  out  over  the 
floor,  and  poor  Lucia's  pretty  pink  slippers  were 
ruined,  which,  as  she  was  an  extremely  dainty  little 
thing,  hurt  her  feelings  dreadfully. 

But  worse  was  to  follow.     Antonio,  who  was 


84  Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden. 

quite  old,  gave  up  the  business  and  sold  the  organ 
to  a  man  named  Pietro  Nolli,  who  took  it  to 
America.  For  ten  days  poor  Lucia  was  put  in  a 
dark,  dark  place  on  the  big  steamer,  where  she 
heard  the  most  awful  roaring  noises,  and  was 
tossed  up  and  down,  from  side  to  side,  till  she 
really  longed  to  die.  She  thought  of  Paolo  and 
wondered  if  he  had  died,  and  if  not,  whether  she 
would  ever  see  him  again.  It  comforted  her  some- 
what to  remember  that  he  had  said  he  would  try 
and  find  her  and  buy  her  back  again. 

At  last  she  reached  America,  and  then  fol- 
lowed a  year  of  wretched  life  to  the  poor  dancer. 
Nothing  was  done  for  her.  The  machinery  was 
broken  and  not  mended.  The  organ  was  sadly 
out  of  tune,  but  Pietro  neither  noticed  nor  cared. 
The  dust  collected  in  the  little  drawing-room. 
The  window  grew  cloudy,  but  for  that  Lucia  was 
glad,  for  she  was  ashamed  of  the  dirty  room,  and 
also,  alas,  of  her  dancing.  She  was  older,  and  had 
rheumatism,  for  she  was  not  used  to  the  colder 
climate  of  America,  and  so  she  danced  in  quite  a 
stiff  jerky  way,  that  would  have  been  funny  if  it 


Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden.  85 

had  not  been  so  sad.  However,  people  still 
seemed  to  like  to  see  her  dance,  and  crowded 
about  the  organ  whenever  she  began. 

One  bitterly  cold  day,  Lucia,  her  bones  aching, 
was  about  to  make  her  bow,  when  she  felt  some- 
thing snap  in  her  back,  and  instead  of  bowing  for- 
ward, she  bowed  backward  !  It  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  she  stood  upright  again, 
and  went  on  with  the  dance.  But  from  that  time 
on,  she  always  bowed  the  same  way,  backward 
and  not  forward.  She  had  no  idea  how  very  funny 
she  looked,  and  when  she  heard  the  shout  from 
the  people  who  were  watching  her,  she  supposed, 
of  course,  it  was  a  shout  of  delight,  such  as  she 
had  heard  many  times  in  her  life,  and  her  poor 
little  cold  heart  warmed  at  the  sound. 

One  day,  by  accident,  her  window  was  broken, 
and  of  course  not  mended.  So  poor  Lucia  had 
to  dance  in  her  drawing-room  with  the  dust  and 
bitter,  biting  cold  blowing  in  through  the  hole. 
It  was  a  frightful  experience  for  her,  with  her 
rheumatism,  and  dressed  in  the  thinnest  of  thin 
tulles  with  no  underclothes  to  speak  of     Through 


86  Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden. 

the  cruel  hole  she  could  now  hear  the  people  talk- 
ing about  her,  but  instead  of  the  words  of  praise 
she  had  heard  all  her  life,  she  found  that  they 
were  laughing  at  her,  making  fun  of  her.  At  this 
poor  Lucia  was  almost  broken  hearted.  It  seemed 
to  her  the  very  worst  blow  of  all. 

She  now  no  longer  tried  to  dance  her  best,  or 
even  to  keep  up  with  the  squeaky  music,  and  one 
day  she  felt  very  ill,  and  began  to  go  slow-er  and 
s-1-o-w-e-r,  and  was  about  to  stop  altogether,  and 
never  dance  again,  when  she  suddenly  saw  looking 
at  her,  through  the  window  a  face  that  she  knew  I 
A  dear  face  with  kind  tender  eyes,  eyes  that  were 
full  of  tears.  She  heard  a  voice,  a  long  unheard 
voice,  saying,  "Lucia,  cara  mia,  Lucia  'tis  I,  your 
Paolo,  I  have  found  you  at  last,"  and  then  the 
little  dancer  heard  no  more  for  she  fainted  and 
fell  on  the  floor  of  the  room. 

Five  dollars  did  Paolo  give  to  Pietro  for  the 
organ,  and  then  the  old  happy  days  began  once 
more.  The  machinery  was  mended,  the  organ 
thoroughly  made  over  by  Paolo,  who  understood 
well    his    business.       Lucia   was    beautifully    and 


Lucia,  the  Organ-Maiden.  87 

warmly  dressed  in  rich  crimson  velvet  Her  dig- 
nity, grace,  and  youth  came  back  again,  and  she 
danced  as  before  for  Paolo,  and  put  her  whole 
heart  into  it.  I  saw  her  only  yesterday.  I  advise 
you  to  look  carefully  at  every  hand-organ  you 
meet,  and  perhaps  you  may  see  her,  too. 


THE   SHADOW. 

THERE  was  once  a  Shadow,  who  lived  with 
his  six-year-old  master,  George,  in  a  house 
by  the  sea.  At  least  they  were  there  dur- 
ing the  long,  warm  summer,  but  in  winter  they 
lived  in  the  city.  George  was  a  dear  little  fel- 
low, and  the  Shadow  loved  him  very  much,  and 
everywhere  that  he  went,  the  Shadow  went  too. 
That  is,  when  the  weather  was  pleasant,  for  the 
Shadow  disliked  the  rain  very  much  and  nothing 
could  induce  him  to  go  anywhere  with  his  master 
on  a  rainy,  or  even  a  cloudy  day.  He  would  then 
hide  himself,  and  when  the  sun  shone  again,  out 
he  would  come  and  run  to  his  master's  side. 

They  were  a  busy  pair,  these  two.  They  ate 
their  breakfast  very  early  in  the  morning — that  is, 
George  did,  but  the  Shadow,  although  well  and 

88 


The  Shadow. 


89 


strong,  never  ate  anything.  After  breakfast,  they 
would  both  put  on  their  play-suits  of  gray  flannel, 
roll  their  sleeves  up  to  their  elbows,  their  trousers 
above  their  knees,  and  would  go  forth  bare-legged 
to  the  beach,  which  was  about  ten  minutes'  walk 
from  the  house.     They  always  wore  large,  rough 


L 


'■"*^^.%.-__ 


90  The  Shadow. 

straw  hats  to  shield  them  from  the  sun,  and  carried 
pails  and  shovels,  and  oh,  what  fine  times  they 
had !  George's  big  black  dog  always  went  with 
them.  This  dog  had  a  very  sad,  solemn  face,  and 
George's  papa  had  named  him  "Woe."  He  was 
not  really  sad,  however,  but  was  kind  and  merry, 
liking  nothing  better  than  to  play  and  romp 
with  his  young  master.  Sometimes  he  would  lie 
down  on  the  beach,  and  George  and  the  Shadow 
would  fill  their  pails  with  the  warm  sand  and  pour 
it  all  over  him,  till  nothing  but  his  black  head,  and 
his  sad,  sad  face  could  be  seen.  He  enjoyed  it, 
and  never  knew  how  very  funny  he  looked.  One 
day  they  had  a  terrible  time,  or  it  might  have  been 
if  Woe  had  not  been  there.  But  he  was,  and  you 
shall  hear  about  it. 

George  and  the  Shadow  were  building  a  sand- 
house,  and  needing  more  wet  sand,  the  boy,  quite 
forgetting  that  the  tide  was  coming  in,  ventured 
too  far  out.  His  back  was  toward  the  ocean, 
and  suddenly,  without  a  moment's  warning,  up 
came  a  monstrous  wave,  and  striking  poor  little 
George,  rolled  him  over  and  over,  and  drew  him 


The  Shadow.  91 

r 

out  to  sea.  At  least  it  would  have  done  so,  had 
not  Woe,  with  a  loud  bark,  jumped  into  the  water, 
and  seizing  him,  drew  him  back  to  the  shore  and 
safety.  The  wave,  meanwhile,  hurried  back  to  the 
sea.  He  may  have  been  frightened  at  Woe's  loud 
bark,  which  was  really  quite  dreadful,  or  he  may 
have  felt  that  he  had  done  a  cowardly  thing  in 
striking  one  so  much  smaller  than  he,  and  more- 
over one  whose  back  was  turned  towards  him. 
The  poor  Shadow,  meanwhile,  had  been  standing 
on  the  very  edge  of  the  ocean,  shivering  with 
terror  and  crying  bitterly,  and  oh,  how  delighted 
he  was  to  see  his  master  again. 

A  few  days  after  this,  they  made  another  trip 
to  the  beach,  and  again  something  happened,  which 
I  must  tell  you  about  from  the  very  beginning. 
George,  you  see,  had  built  a  castle  of  sand  and 
round  beach  stones  (of  which  there  were  a  great 
many  at  hand),  and  at  one  end  was  a  tower. 

The  Shadow,  up  to  this  time,  had  been  a  very 
gentle  little  fellow,  willing  and  eager  to  do  just 
what  his  master  wanted  to  do,  but  he  was  not  very 
big,  you  must  remember,  and  this  time  he  very 


92  The  Shadow. 

much  wanted  a  second  tower.  *'  Two  towers  are 
so  much  prettier  than  one,"  he  said  to  George,  who 
paid  no  attention,  but  simply  went  on  building  his 
one  tower  still  higher.  At  the  top  he  placed  a 
small  flag  which  his  mamma  had  given  him  that 
very  morning.  When  the  castle  was  finished,  he 
clapped  his  hands  with  delight,  and  of  course  the 
Shadow  had  to  clap  his  hands  too,  but  oh,  how  un- 
willingly he  did  it.  It  certainly  was  hard  for  him, 
for  not  only  did  George  refuse  to  build  the  castle 
as  he  wanted  it,  but  the  poor  Shadow  had  to  help 
George  carry  the  stones  and  build  the  castle  the 
way  he  did  not  want  it.  Still,  he  ought  not  to 
have  got  so  vexed  about  it.  When  his  master 
walked  home  that  afternoon,  it  was  a  very  cross, 
sulky  little  Shadow  that  followed  him. 

George,  after  supper,  went  to  bed  and  sup- 
posed, of  course,  his  shadow  had  done  the  same. 
But  he  was  wide-awake,  and  had  decided  to  do 
something  very  naughty.  As  soon  as  all  the 
people  in  the  house  were  asleep,  out  crept  that 
little  Shadow  through  the  window  and  across 
the  lighted  lawn  (for  the  moon  was  now  shining 


The  Shadow.  93 

brightly),  and  soon  arrived  at  the  beach. 
Shadows  when  they  are  with  their  masters 
have  to  do  just  as  they  do,  but  once  let  them 
get  away  and  they  sometimes  act  very  strangely. 
If  you  ever  meet  one  without  his  master,  watch 
him  and  see  if  he  does  not  act  oddly.  This  one 
had  never  been  away  alone  before  in  his  short  life, 
and  he  felt  very  free  and  happy.  He  ran  first 
from  one  end  of  the  beach  to  the  other,  then 
danced  and  hopped  about,  and  finally  lay  down 
on  the  sand  and  rolled  over  and  over.  He  was 
dressed  as  he  had  been  in  the  afternoon,  pail, 
shovel,  and  all. 

At  last,  he  said  to  himself,  "  Now  to  my  busi- 
ness." And  what  do  you  suppose  his  "business  " 
was  ?  To  put  another  tower  on  the  castle  !  He 
knew  just  how  to  do  it,  as  he  had  helped  George 
build  the  other  one  that  afternoon,  you  know. 

But  the  poor  little  fellow  had  forgotten  that  al- 
though Shadows  can  work  very  well  with  their 
masters,  without  them  they  can  do  nothing,  and 
when  you  are  older,  children,  you  will  find  that 
shadow-people  are  not  the  only  ones  who  work 


94  The  Shadow. 

well  when  the  master  is  present,  and  not  at  all 
when  he  is  absent.  Although  the  Shadow  worked 
hard,  he  could  not  carry  the  sand,  he  could  not 
drag  the  stones,  and  he  could  not  build  the  tower, 
for  his  pail  was  a  shadow-pail,  his  shovel  a  shadow- 
shovel,  and  he  himself  the  biggest  shadow  of  all. 
Then  he  sat  down  and  cried  bitterly.  A  kind- 
hearted  moonbeam,  of  which  there  had  been  mil- 
lions playing  all  about,  came  to  him,  saying : 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

He  told  her,  and  shining  kindly  on  him,  she 
said : 

**  Go  home,  and  I  promise  that  the  next  time 
you  come  to  the  beach,  you  shall  find  two  towers 
on  the  castle." 

"  How  can  you  do  that?  "  he  asked,  but  as  the 
moonbeam  had  already  gone,  of  course  she  could 
not  answer  this. 

The  Shadow,  comforted,  in  spite  of  himself,  by 
her  promise,  thought  he  would  go  home,  but  before 
he  had  gone  half  the  distance,  he  was  so  tired 
that  he  lay  down  for  a  nap  by  the  roadside.  He 
meant  to  take  only  a  very  short  nap,  but  he  slept 


The  Shadow.  95 

and  slept  and  slept.  The  sun  came  up  and  dried 
the  dew  from  the  flowers  and  grass,  and  still  he 
slept !  Suddenly  he  was  awakened  by  hearing 
voices.  He  sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes,  for  there 
coming  toward  him,  were  George's  papa  and"' 
mamma.  With  them  was  George,  and  behind 
him,  if  you  will  believe  me,  walked  a  strange, 
new  Shadow !  Our  Shadow  ran  up  to  him,  and 
said  angrily : 

"•  Go  away,  this  is  my  master." 

'•  No,"  said  the  strange  one,  smiling  saucily, 
"look  again  at  George." 

The  Shadow  did,  and  saw  that  the  boy  was 
dressed  in  his  best  serge  suit,  his  brown  shoes  and 
stockings,  and  his  round  brown  hat,  and  then  he 
remembered  that  this  was  Sunday  and  that  George 
was  on  his  way  to  church. 

"Now,"  said  the  strange  Shadow,  proudly, 
*•  look  at  me." 

Our  Shadow  did,  and  found  that  he  was  dressed 
exactly  like  George.  Then,  knowing  that  it  was 
the  first  duty  of  a  good  Shadow  to  dress  like  his 
master  in  every  particular,  he  realized  that  George 


96  The  Shadow. 

did  not  want  him,  dressed  as  he  was.  Had  the 
boy  turned  and  found  him  following,  dressed 
in  his  play-suit,  large  hat,  shovel,  pail,  and 
all,  I  am  sure  he  would  have  been  very  much 
frightened,  ^ilthough  he  was  not  a  boy  to  be 
"  afraid  of  his  own  shadow."  So  the  Shadow 
stood  sadly  back,  and  when  they  were  gone,  he 
began  to  cry. 

"What  is  the  matter  ?'*  said  a  tiny  gray  bird, 
who  was  sitting  on  a  twig  by  his  side,  and  he  told 
her  the  whole  story. 

"  Stop  crying,  and  I  will  help  you,"  said  the 
bird.  **Go  first  and  put  on  your  brown  clothes, 
just  like  George's.  I,  meanwhile,  will  fly  up  to 
the  sky  and  tell  a  friend  of  mine,  a  dear  cloud,  to 
send  down  some  rain.  Then,  of  course,  the 
Shadow,  who  is  now  with  George  at  church,  will 
have  to  run  home.  When  he  gets  there,  the  rain 
will  stop,  and  then  will  be  your  chance.  Run  as 
fast  as  your  little  shadow-legs  will  carry  you  to 
your  master,  and  even  if  the  wrong  Shadow  runs 
too,  I  am  sure  you  can  go  faster,  as  he  will  be  tired 
from  his  former  run." 


The  Shadow.  97 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  dear  bird,"  said  the 
Shadow. 

He  hurried  then  to  change  his  clothes,  and  sure 
enough,  very  soon,  down  came  the  rain  as  the  bird 
had  promised,  and  in  rushed  the  wrong  Shadow, 
breathless.  Then  the  rain  ceased  and  our  Shadow 
fairly  flew  to  the  church.  But  the  wrong  one,  real- 
izing what  had  happened,  flew  too,  and  oh,  what  a 
mad  race  they  had.  But  as  the  bird  had  foretold, 
the  right  one  reached  the  church  first,  and  when 
the  services  were  over,  back  walked  George,  fol- 
lowed closely  by  his  own  Shadow.  He  was  very 
glad  to  be  near  his  master  again,  and  began  to 
feel  badly  for  his  naughtiness.  The  next  day,  off 
they  went  to  the  beach,  the  Shadow  walking  very, 
very  slowly  and  hanging  his  guilty  little  head. 

"  I  wonder  if  the  moonbeam  will  have  really 
built  the  other  tower,  and  will  George  be  very 
angry?"  he  thought. 

Now  when  they  got  to  the  beach,  they  went  di- 
rectly to  the  castle,  and  what  do  you  think  they 
tbund  ?  The  moonbeam  had  kept  her  word.  There 
were,  to  be  sure,  two  towers,  one  at  one  end  and 


98 


The  Shadow. 


one  at  the  other,  but  one  was  a  "really,  truly" 
tower,  while  the  other — ^was  only  a  '^shadow- 
tower''  I  So  George  was  not  at  all  angry,  and  the 
Shadow  was  happy.  But  do  you  know  he  has 
never  left  his  master  again,  and  the  next  pleasant 
day  you  meet  George,  watch  and  see  if  his  Shadow 
is  not  close  at  his  heels. 


*% 


WHAT  THE  SQUIRREL  DID  FOR 
RICHARD. 


RICHARD  had  found  a  big  and  tempting 
chestnut  in  the  woods,  and  was  about  to  eat 
it,  when  he  heard  a  "chit,  chit,  chit,"  over- 
head, and  looking  up  saw,  perched  on  the  swaying 
branch  of  a  tree,  a  red  squirrel,  whose  bright  eyes 
were  fixed  wistfully  on  the 
chestnut ;  so  wistfully  that 
Richard  knew  at  once  what 
the  little  creature  wanted. 
It  was  late  for  chestnuts, 
there  were  not  many  to 
be  found,  and  this  one 
was  large  and  mealy.  But 
Richard  was  a  kind-hearted 
boy,  and  so  he  said:  "You  shall  have  the  nut, 
squirrel,'*  and    placing   it   on   a  stone  under  the 


99 


loo     What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard. 

tree,  he  walked  off  a  few  feet.  Down  scampered 
the  squirrel,  seized  the  nut,  and  was  up  again 
on  the  branch  in  a  twinkling,  where  he  sat  crack- 
ing and  nibbling  it,  with  the  greatest  enjoyment. 
Richard  stood  under  the  tree  watching  him. 

"Is  n't  it  good?"  he  said.  *'I  am  awfully  glad 
I  gave  it  to  you." 

"Chit,  chit,"  said  the  squirrel;  and  then,  to 
Richard's  astonishment,  he  uttered  these  words  in 
very  good  English  :  "You  have  been  kind  to  me, 
little  boy.  You  have  not  only  given  away  what  is 
yours,  but,  more  than  that,  something  which  you 
yourself  wanted  very  much.  To  do  that,  is  the 
greatest  kindness  one  can  show  to  another.  Now, 
as  it  happens,  I  am  a  powerful  squirrel,  and  in  re- 
turn for  your  kindness,  I  am  going  to  give  you  a 
gift,  which  some  time  will  be  of  the  greatest  use  to 
you.  Now,  mark  my  words :  Whenever  you  rub 
the  little  finger  of  your  right  hand  across  your 
chin,  you  will  at  once  become  a  squirrel."  Then 
he  ceased  speaking,  and  vanished  ! 

Richard  stood  there,  staring  in  astonishment, 
rubbing  his  eyes,  and  wondering  if  the  squirrel  had 


What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard.      loi 

really  spoken  to  him.  "  Of  course  I  know,"  he 
said,  "  that  I  can't  turn  into  a  squirrel,  even  if  I 
rubbed  the  little  finger  of  my  right  hand  over  my 
chin,  all  day  long." 

But,  just  to  convince  himself,  he  drew  his  right 
hand  little  finger  across  his  chin,  and  before  you 
could  count  two,  he  found  he  had  actually  become 
a  dear  little  red  squirrel,  and  was  running  quickly 
up  a  tree  !  (Perhaps  to  get  away  from  the  small 
boy,  who  had  stood  there,  only  a  moment  before.) 

•'What  fun  this  is,"  he  thought,  "to  stay  in 
these  beautiful  woods  all  day  long — to  have  to  do 
no  lessons,  and  not  to  go  to  bed  till  I  want  to. 
Oh,  how  happy  I  am." 

The  next  two  hours  he  spent  in  taking  flying 
leaps  from  tree  to  tree,  startling  all  the  other 
squirrels  and  wood-creatures,  who  scolded  him 
roundly  for  disturbing  their  afternoon  naps.  Then 
he  felt  tired,  and  sat  down  upon  a  soft  mossy  stone 
to  rest.  It  had  begun  to  grow  dark,  and  the  boy- 
squirrel  for  the  first  time  thought  of  his  dear 
mother  and  his  comfortable  home.  And  then — 
then — he  remembered  that  his  mother  would  not 


I02     What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard. 

know  him  as  he  was  now,  and  that  his  friend,  the 
squirrel,  had  neglected  to  tell  him  how  he  was  to 
turn  himself  back  into  a  boy  again. 

'•  Then  I  must  always  be  a  squirrel,"  he  said, 
*'  and  never,  never  go  home  to  dear  Papa  and 
Mamma  any  more." 

At  this  dreadful  thought  his  tears  began  to  flow, 
and,  forgetting  that  he  was  no  longer  a  boy,  he 
tried  to  put  his  little  paw  into  his  pocket,  to  get  a 
handkerchief  to  wipe  those  tears.  Suddenly  he 
caught  sight  of  his  bushy  tail.  "  The  very  thing 
for  a  handkerchief,"  he  thought,  and  was  about  to 
use  it,  when  he  noticed  on  the  extreme  end  of  the 
tail,  and  almost  hidden  by  the  soft  fur,  a  small 
knob  that  looked  very  much  like  an  electric-bell 
button.  On  this  was  printed,  in  letters  so  small 
that,  had  not  his  eyes  been  very  small  too,  I  am 
sure  he  never  could  have  read  it,  "  Press  the  but- 
ton." Curling  his  tail  over  his  head,  he  pressed 
the  knob  hard  against  his  little  sharp  brown  nose, 
and  immediately  he  became — Richard — the  boy, 
again. 

Running  home  as  fast  as  he  could,  for  he  felt 


What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard.      103 

a  bit  dazed  by  these  quick  changes,  he  rushed  into 
the  house.  His  mother  was  sitting  before  the  fire, 
sewing,  while  the  big  pet  cat,  ''  Tabby,"  lay  curled 
upon  the  rug  at  her  feet.  Richard  was  in  a  state 
of  great  excitement,  and  when  Mrs.  Burton  heard 
the  story  of  the  squirrel,  which  he  told  her,  she 
smiled  and  said  : 

"My  little  boy  must  not  lie  down  in  the  woods 
and  take  his  naps  again." 

"  Oh,  Mamma,  you  think  I  was  dreaming,  but 
this  was  no  dream.  I  can  really  turn  myself  into 
a  squirrel,  whenever  I  like — I  will  show  you." 
And  Richard  rubbed  the  little  finger  of  his  right 
hand  over  his  chin,  and  then,  how  it  happened 
Mrs.  Burton  could  never  tell,  but  the  first  thing 
she  knew,  her  boy  had  vanished,  and  running 
across  the  room  she  saw  a  little  red  squirrel  I 

But  alas  !  the  cat  had  seen  it,  too,  and  like  a 
flash  was  after  it,  giving  it  no  time  to  press  the 
knob,  and  change  itself  back  into  a  boy.  Poor 
Mrs.  Burton  screamed  in  her  fright,  while  round 
the  room,  over  chairs  and  tables,  flew  the  two  I 
Then  the  boy-squirrel  ran  to  his  mother's  arms  for 


I04     What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard. 

protection.  She  held  him  high  in  one  hand,  beat- 
ing down  the  cat  with  the  other,  till  the  squirrel 
got  a  chance  to  press  the  button,  and  Mrs.  Burton 
found  that  she  was  holding  her  own  dear  boy  in 
her  arms.  Poor  woman,  she  was  so  weak  that 
she  was  unable  to  speak  for  some  time,  and  in- 
deed it  is  not  strange  that  this  was  so,  for  to  see 
one's  only  child  pursued  and  almost  eaten  up  by 
a  pet  cat,  was  an  unusual  and  extremely  trying 
experience  for  any  mother. 

When  she  had  recovered  herself,  she  said  to 
Richard,  with  tears  in  her  eyes  :  **  Promise  me 
that  you  will  never  turn  yourself  into  a  squirrel 
again,  unless,  indeed,  you  can  save  your  life  by  so 
doing."  Richard  promised,  and  for  two  years  he 
remained  just  a  plain,  common  boy,  like  other 
boys. 

Then  one  day,  in  summer,  he  went  bathing  in 

the  river  with  some  friends.     Forgetting  the  strong 

current   in    mid-stream,  he   ventured  out  too  far 

Jrom  the  shore,  and,  to  his  horror  found  that  he 

si;;: 

was  being  carried  away  in  spite  of  himself.  His 
friends  shouted  to  him,  but  did  not  venture  to  go 


What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard.      105 

to  his  help.  Suddenly,  floating  on  the  water  near, 
he  saw  a  piece  of  wood,  about  a  foot  long.  This 
he  seized,  and  clung  desperately  to  it.  His 
strength  was  fast  leaving  him,  and  he  could  no 
longer  swim.  But  alas  !  the  board  was  not  big 
enough  to  bear  his  weight,  and  the  poor  boy  felt 
himself  sinking  !  Just  then,  fortunately,  he  remem- 
bered that  he  could  save  himself  by  turning 
himself  into  a  squirrel,  and  quickly  rubbing  his 
finger  over  his  chin,  in  a  twinkling  a  very  wet 
little  red  squirrel,  crawled  up  on  the  board  and 
leisurely  floated  down-stream ! 

The  boys  on  the  shore,  seeing  Richard  no 
more,  thought  he  had  sunk,  and  shouting  "He  is 
drowned,"  ran  to  tell  his  mother.  Half  a  mile 
down-stream,  the  board  with  the  squirrel  was 
washed  ashore,  and  the  little  creature  ran  through 
the  woods,  till  he  came  to  the  place  on  the  river- 
bank  where  he  had  left  his  clothes,  when,  pressing 
the  knob,   ''Richard  was  himself  again." 

Dressing  himself,  he  ran  home  to  his  mother, 
who  was  crying  bitterly,  having  heard  from  th^ 
boys  that  he  was    drowned.     She  could   scarcely 


io6     What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard. 

believe  her  eyes,  when  she  saw  him  standing  there 
alive  before  her.  He  told  her  what  had  saved  his 
life,  and  then,  indeed,  she  felt  grateful  to  the 
squirrel. 

Just  a  week  from  this  time,  Richard  went  from 
his  father's  house  to  the  village  on  an  errand. 
Instead  of  going  by  the  regular  road,  he  made  a 
"short-cut,"  going  through  Farmer  Newbone's 
pasture,  entirely  forgetting  the  dangerous  bull, 
who  was  in  it.  He  was  half-way  across  when  he 
heard  a  loud  bellowing,  a  snorting  and  puffing, 
and  turning,  saw,  to  his  horror,  the  bull !  The 
animal's  eyes  were  glaring  angrily,  and  tossing  his 
head  in  fury,  he  was  coming  with  tremendous 
speed  toward  the  little  boy,  who  stood  there, 
trembling  with  fear  !  He  knew  that  the  bull 
would  be  upon  him,  before  he  could  possibly 
reach  the  wall,  and  feared  his  last  moment  had 
come,  when,  fortunately,  he  happened  to  remem- 
ber that  he  could  turn  himself  into  a  squirrel,  and 
so  escape.  Then  he  sat  down  on  the  ground,  and 
calmly  waited  for  the  bull  to  come  on  !  He  held 
his  finger  all  ready  within  an  inch  of  his  chin,  and 


What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard.      107 

smiled   at  the  thought  of  the  bull's  astonishment 
when  he  should  disappear  before  his  eyes. 

And  now  the  animal  was  very  near,  was  almost 
upon  him.  Richard  waited  till  he  could  feel  the 
hot  breath  upon  his  face,  when  he  quickly  rubbed 
his  finger  on  his  chin,  and — then — a  red  squirrel 
ran   right    up  the  animal's   nose,   over  his    head, 


along  his  back,  down  his  tail,  across  the  field,  and 
over  the  high  wall,  before  the  astonished  bull  had 
finished  staring  at  the  place  where  there  had  cer- 
tainly been  a  boy  only  a  moment  before  ! 


io8     What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard. 

Years  after,  when  Richard  grew  to  be  twelve 
years  old,  he  went  one  time  with  his  father  to  a 
city  fifty  miles  from  his  home,  to  spend  a  week. 
They  had  a  room  on  the  fifth  floor  of  a  big,  noisy 
hotel.  The  boy  had  a  fine  time,  for  his  father  was 
very  kind  to  him,  showing  him  everything,  and 
taking  him  about  constantly.  One  night  Richard, 
being  tired,  went  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock.  His 
father  had  gone  for  the  evening,  to  see  a  gentle- 
man on  business.  The  boy  had  been  asleep  for 
about  an  hour,  when  suddenly  he  woke  up,  feeling 
choked,  and  found  that  the  room  was  full  of 
smoke  !  Springing  from  his  bed,  he  put  on  his 
clothes  and  ran  to  the  door,  only  to  be  met  by  still 
thicker  smoke,  while  below  he  could  hear  a  roar- 
ing noise,  and  the  cries  of  frightened  people  I 

Running  then  to  the  window,  he  looked  out 
into  the  street,  five  stories  below.  He  knew  that 
if  he  jumped,  it  would  kill  him  instantly,  and  he 
also  realized,  poor  boy,  that  if  he  stayed  where  he 
was,  he  would  surely  be  burned  to  death,  for  he 
could  see  the  angry  flames  bursting  out  from  the 
lower  windows  of  the  hotel. 


What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard.      109 

A  narrow  coping,  about  six  inches  wide,  ran 
under  his  window,  to  the  corner  of  the  big  build- 
ing, and  from  there  a  water-spout  led  to  the 
ground ;  but  even  supposing  that  he  could  walk  on 
this  narrow  ledge,  he  certainly  could  never,  never 
slide  down  to  the  ground  on  a  water-spout.  A 
cat  might  do  it,  but  certainly  not  a  boy.  And 
thinking  of  a  cat,  reminded  him  of  the  power 
which  the  squirrel  had  given  him  so  long  before. 
Why  could  he  not  become  a  squirrel,  and  so 
escape  this  dreadful  death  ?  It  was  now  five  years, 
however,  since  he  had  been  a  squirrel,  the  last 
time  being  when  he  had  raced  over  the  bull's  back, 
you  know. 

With  a  beating  heart,  poor  Richard  rubbed  the 
little  finger  of  his  right  hand  on  his  chin,  and  im- 
mediately  a  red  squirrel  was  running  quickly  along 
the  narrow  ledge  (which  seemed  a  broad  safe  way 
to  him)  toward  the  water-spout  I  Reaching  this, 
he  ran  easily,  swiftly  down. 

''  There  's  a  kitten,"  said  a  man  in  the 
crowd. 

"No,  it's    a   rat,"  said    another,    for  no    one 


I  lo     What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard, 

thought  of  a  country  squirrel  coming  out  of  a  city 
hotel. 

When  the  little  creature  was  almost  down,  he 
met  with  a  painful  accident.  He  caught  one  of  the 
claws  of  his  right  front  paw  on  a  rusty  nail,  and 
in  his  haste  to  get  down,  it  was  broken  off! 
When  he  reached  the  ground,  he  managed  to 
change  himself  into  Richard  again,  without  anyone 
noticing  it,  in  the  noise  and  confusion.  Then, 
looking  about  him  in  the  crowd,  he  saw  at  a  little 
distance,  his  poor  father,  who  stood  there  with  the 
tears  running  down  his  cheeks,  and  who  was  offer- 
ing a  great  deal  of  money  to  anyone  who  would 
go  into  the  burning  hotel,  and  save  his  boy,  but 
no  one  would  go.  Twice  he  had  tried  to  go  him- 
self, but  the  people  held  him  back,  and  would  not 
let  him.  Richard  ran  to  him,  and  the  father 
and  son,  and  indeed  all  the  people  about,  cried, 
but  it  was  for  joy.  Then  Richard  noticed  that  his 
right  hand  was  bleeding,  and  remembered  the 
rusty  nail  that  had  torn  his  paw  a  moment  before, 
when  he  was  a  squirrel.  Looking  at  his  hand,  he 
found,  to  his  horror,  that  the  little  finger  was  gone  I 


What  the  Squirrel  Did  for  Richard.      1 1 1 

'*0h,  dear,  oh,  dear,"  he  cried,  "then  I  fear  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  turn  myself  into  a  squirrel 
again." 

And  so  it  proved,  for  from  that  time  on,  al- 
though he  rubbed  each  finger  across  his  chin, 
taking  one  at  a  time,  and  giving  each  a  fair  trial, 
it  was  in  vain.  A  boy  he  was,  and  a  boy  he  had 
to  remain. 


THE  RUNAWAY  WATCH. 

LUCY  had  come  to  spend  a  few  weeks  with 
her  aunt  at  the  seashore.  She  had  ar- 
rived the  night  before,  and  as  the  train 
was  late,  she  had  to  go  to  bed  directly  she  got  to 
the  house.  After  breakfast  the  next  day,  she 
went  to  the  beach,  and  was  very  much  excited — 
for,  do  you  know  she  had  never,  never  seen  the 
ocean  before.  Her  own  home  was  in  a  city,  far 
in  the  west  and  this  was  the  first  time  she  had 
ever  been  away  from  it.  When  she  came  in  sight 
of  the  water,  you  cannot  imagine  how  surprised 
and  delighted  the  little  city  child  was.  She  gazed 
and  gazed  at  the  ocean,  lying  so  calmly,  quietly 
before  her. 

"And  this  is  the  great  Atlantic,"  she  said,  then 

turning,  she  saw  the  beach.     "  Oh,  what  a  beau  ti- 
ns 


The  Runaway  Watch.  113 

lal  beach,"  she  exclaimed,  and  indeed  it  was, 
being  very  long,  and  with  hard,  firm  sand,  which 
was  almost  as  white  as  snow.  The  waves  were 
rolling  up  very  gently, — ah,  it  was  all  unlike  any- 
thing that  Lucy  had  ever  seen  before,  and  very, 
very  beautiful.  She  took  out  her  watch  and  look- 
ing at  it,  found  that  she  had  two  hours  before 
luncheon  to  remain  in  this  enchanting  place. 

And  now,  v/hile  she  is  holding  the  watch  in 
her  hand  I  must  describe  it  to  you,  for  this  story 
is  really  not  about  Lucy  at  all,  but  about  her 
watch.  In  the  first  place,  one  glance  at  his  fine 
open  face,  would  show  anyone  what  a  thoroughly 
good  watch  he  was.  He  was  always  "up  to 
time,"  and  was  therefore  very  successful  as  a 
business  watch.  He  employed  several  hands,  but 
as  he  always  kept  them  steadily  at  work,  he  never 
had  a  strike.  He  was  a  repeater,  but  not  a  gossip, 
and,  in  fact,  required  considerable  pressing  before 
he  would  consent  to  speak  at  all. 

When  Lucy  took  her  watch  out,  and  it  heard 
the  roar  of  the  ocean,  it  was  so  astonished  that  it 
actually  stopped  short.     Like  Lucy,  this  was  its 


1 1 4  The  Runaway  Watch. 

first  visit  to  the  seashore.  The  hands  knocked 
off  work,  and  rushing  to  the  small  glass  window, 
looked  forth  at  the  astounding  scene.  Then  back 
they  scurried  and  said  to  the  master  of  the  works  : 

**  Our  mistress  is  having  a  fine  time  in  this 
sand.  We,  too,  demand  a  holiday.  We  have 
kept  steadily  at  work  all  these  years,  and  please, 
please,  let  us  go." 

The  master  himself  was  very  much  excited  at 
what  he  had  seen  from  the  watch  window,  and  to 
tell  the  truth,  was  just  as  eager  as  they  to  investigate 
for  himself,  so  he  gave  his  consent,  and  out  rattled 
the  hands,  the  small  cog-wheels,  big  wheels,  main- 
spring, and  everything  that  is  in  a  watch,  till  the 
case  was  quite,  quite  empty. 

Then  being  careful  to  keep  out  of  Lucy's  sight, 
these  strange  little  things,  went  rolling,  rattling, 
clattering  down  the  beach.  The  cog-wheels  got 
clogged  with  sand  once  in  a  while,  and  one  of 
the  hands  had  to  go  and  put  him  right  again. 
The  main-spring  was  broken,  in  one  of  his 
mad  rushes,  but  that  did  not  give  anyone  the 
slightest    uneasiness,    for  he  was  in   the    habit  of 


The  Runaway  Watch.  1 15 

breaking   often,    anyway,  and  always  without  the 
slightest  provocation.       They  threw  sand  at  each 


other,    shouted,    laughed,    and    behaved    just   as 
children  do.      At   last  one  of  the  wheels  caught 
sight  of  Lucy  in  the  act  of  rising  to  go  back. 
•'  Hurry,  hurry,"  he  screamed,  "or  she  will  go 


ii6  The  Runaway  Watch. 

without  us  !  "  and  ther>  how  the  works  flew  !  They 
had  never,  when  in  the  case,  been  known  to  hurry 
in  the  least,  but  now  they  fairly  jostled  each  other 
in  their  eagerness.  The  hands  kept  themselves 
well  in  hand,  the  main-spring,  broken  as  he  was, 
did  spring,  and  the  cog-wheels  cogged,  and  they 
finally  did  get  there,  just  in  time  to  fly  breathless 
into  the  case,  but  not  in  time  to  brush  ofl"  the  sand. 
Lucy  fortunately  did  not  take  out  her  watch.  If 
she  had  happened  to  do  so,  I  am  sure  she  would 
have  been  much  astonished  at  its  condition. 

The  works,  meanwhile,  had  somewhat  recov- 
ered themselves.  The  wheels  took  their  places, 
the  hands  theirs,  and  the  head  master  gave  the 
order,  standing  before  them : 

"■  Tick- tick,  tick- tick,  go  T'  And  they  all  bent 
to  their  work,  only  to  find  that  they  were  unable  to 
get  on  at  all.  "  Scratch,  squeak-i-ty,  scratch,"  was 
the  only  sound  they  could  make.  Then  the  hands 
quarrelled,  each  accusing  the  other  of  not  doing  his 
work,  and  so  stopping  all  the  machinery.  Then 
the  wheels  took    it  up,  one  saying  to  the   other : 

"It  is  your  fault." 


The  Runaway  Watch.  1 1 7 

*'  It  's  not,"  was  the  indignant  answer,  "  it  's 
yoursy 

**  Hush,  hush,"  said  the  case,  **  I  will  settle  this 
matter  for  you,"  and  as  he  naturally  knew  more 
about  the  case  than  anyone  could,  they  listened 
respectfully. 

"  You  don't  get  on,"  said  he,  ''simply  because 
you  are  clogged  with  sand." 

"  He  is  right,"  said  the  master,  and  we  can  do 
no  more  till  we  go  to  the  watchmaker's." 

That  night,  when  Lucy  tried  to  wind  her  watch, 
it  would  n't  wind.  She  listened,  and  there  was  no 
friendly  "  tick- tick  "  to  be  heard.  So  the  next  day 
she  took  it  to  the  maker,  who  was  very  much  sur- 
prised when  he  examined  the  works. 

"  Well,  well,  little  girl,"  said  he,  "what  have  you 
been  doing  to  this  watch  ?  It  looks  as  if  you  had 
rolled  it  in  sand,  thrown  sand  at  it,  and  poured 
sand  into  it." 

Lucy  was  very  much  ashamed,  but  as  she  really 
had  no  idea  how  it  came  about,  she  could  sav 
nothing. 

**  It  must  have  happened  yesterday,"  said  her 


1 1 8  The  Runaway  Watch. 

aunt,  "  and  the  next  time  you  go  to  the  beach  the 
watch  had  better  remain  at  home." 

And  so  the  works  were  punished  for  their 
naughtiness,  for  they  never  got  even  a  gHmpse 
of  the  beautiful  ocean  again,  and  had  to  rem^n 
quietly  in  their  case  ever  after,  saying  **  Tick-tick, 
tick-tick."  And  sometimes  if  you  listen  very 
closely,  you  may  hear  them  say,  softly  and  re- 
gretfully,  "  Atlan-//^,  At\2in-/iCy  Atlan-//(^." 


A  GRASSHOPPER'S  TRIP  TO  THE 

CITY. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  green  Grass- 
hopper, who  lived  with  his  papa  and 
mamma,  his  brother  and  sisters,  under  a 
daisy  in  a  green  field.  Near  them  was  a  big  red 
house,  and  in  the  house  lived  a  boy  whose  name 
was  Southworth.  This  boy  owned  a  beautiful  cat 
called  Propriety,  which  was  a  very  long  name,  but 
then  she  was  a  very  long  cat.  She  was  gray,  and 
had  the  greenest  eyes  you  ever  saw,  but  she  had 
one  serious  fault — she  was  very  fond  of  eating 
grasshoppers.  She  would  crouch  in  the  long 
grass,  and  when  one  appeared,  out  would  come 
her  paw,  and  that  grasshopper  would  never,  never 
hop  any  more.     She  knew  no  better,  but  that  did 

not   make   it   any  happier    for    the    grasshopper. 

119 


1 20   A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City. 

Southworth  thought  that  Propriety's  eyes  were 
green  because  she  ate  so  many  grasshoppers.  I 
can  scarcely  believe  it  was  so,  however,  because 
some  cats  drink  only  milk,  and  I  never  saw  any 
cat  with  white  eyes,  did  you  ? 

Now  the  Grasshopper  who  lived  under  the 
daisy,  asked  his  mother  one  day  if  he  might  take 
a  "hop."  He  didn't  say  walk  as  you  do,  as  he 
did  n't  know  how  to  walk.  His  mother  said  yes, 
but  told  him  to  be  very  careful  to  keep  away 
from  Propriety.  He  said  he  would,  and  off  he 
hopped. 

He  had  a  lovely  time,  looking  at  all  the  pretty 
flowers  in  the  field.  He  saw  a  great,  ripe  rasp- 
berry hanging  temptingly  just  where  he  could 
reach  it.  Now,  a  few  days  before,  he  had  seen 
Southworth  eating  a  raspberry,  and  had  heard  him 
say,  ''  How  delicious ! "  so  he  thought  he  too 
would  taste  this  berry.  But  he  did  not  like  it  at 
all,  so  popped  it  out  as  quickly  as  he  could,  and 
looked  sadly  down  at  his  pretty  green  coat  that 
was  all  stained  with  the  red  juice.  He  was  a 
neat  grasshopper,  and  he  wiped  his  little  mouth 


A  Grasshopper  s  Trip  to  the  City.    1 2 1 

and  coat  and  legs  as  well  as  he  could  with  a  clean 
leaf  that  grew  near. 

He  had  hopped  quite  a  distance  from  his  home 
by  this  time,  and  feeling  tired,  looked  about  for  a 
nap-place.  He  soon  found  it — a  flat  stone  on 
which  the  sun  had  been  shining  all  the  morning, 
making  it  warm  and  comfortable.  He  lay  down 
in  the  very  middle  of  it,  and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

Now  under  this  stone  there  was  a  hole,  and  in 
it  lived  a  black  snake.  He,  too,  was  fond  of 
sleeping  and  had  his  own  favorite  nap-place — on 
the  very  same  warm  flat  stone  on  which  the  Grass- 
hopper was  lying. 

The  Snake  came  from  his  hole,  looked  about, 
and  said:  "I  think  I  will  take  a  nap."  So  he 
crawled  up  on  the  stone  (not  noticing  the  Grass- 
hopper) and  curled  himself  round  and  round  and 
round  and  went  to  sleep.  Not  a  very  comfortable 
position  for  a  nap,  but  then  he  was  only  a  snake, 
and,  I  daresay,  had  no  kind  mother  to  tell  him  to 
"lie  straight." 

Pretty  soon  the  Grasshopper  woke  up,  and  you 
never  saw  such  a  surprised  Grasshopper  as  this 


122    A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City. 

one.  At  first  he  thought  there  was  a  black  moun- 
tain before  him.  Then  he  found  that  the  ''black 
mountain  "  went  entirely  round  him. 

"I  must  jump,"  said  he,  and  he  did.  But  he 
was  sleepy,  and  he  was  frightened,  and  where  do 
you  think  he  jumped  ?  Directly  on  the  Snake's 
head  I 

This  woke  up  the  Snake,  who  lifted  his  head 
-and  said,  "hssssssss."     But,  of  course,   he  could 

not  see  the  Grasshopper, 
nor  could  he  touch  him. 
The  Grasshopper  did  n't 
know  what  "hssssssss" 
meant,  but  it  sounded 
very  dreadful,  and  being 
now  thoroughly  awake,  he  made  a  tremendous 
jump,  high  in  the  air,  and  came  down — on  some- 
thing warm,  soft,  gray !  At  first  he  thought  't  was 
a  new  kind  of  grass,  and  then  his  heart  stood  still, 
for  he  found  that  he  was  on  the  head  and  right 
between  the  ears  of  his  greatest  enemy — ^Propriety, 
who  was  crouching  in  the  grass,  watching  for  grass- 
hoppers I   He  gave  one  agonized  jump  for  his  life  I 


A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City.     123 

'T  was  a  high  jump,  't  was  a  long  jump,  and  his 
next  landing  place  was  not  land  at  all,  but  water, 
for  the  poor  little  fellow  found  himself  in  a  pond. 
It  seemed  like  the  ocean  to  him,  and  he  called 
loudly  for  ''  help,  help !  " 


Just  then  he  saw,  floating  on  the  water,  some- 
thing green.  He  made  a  great  effort  and  suc- 
ceeding in  reaching  it,  scrambled  up  on  a  large 
leaf.  It  was  a  lily-pad,  and  beside  it  grew  a  most 
beautiful  pink  water-lily. 

"Poor  little  fellow,"  said  the  Leaf,  'Test  on 


1 24    A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City. 

me.  I  will  rock  you  very  gently  and  you  will 
soon  be  better." 

And  the  Lily  bent  her  beautiful  head  and  said  : 
"  Yes,  rest,  come  nearer  me,  for  I  carry  a  perfume 
that  must  surely  make  you  better." 

The  Grasshopper,  who  was  very  polite,  thanked 
them  both,  and  sure  enough  was  soon  well  again. 
"  You  are  beautiful,"  he  said  to  the  Lily,  who 
blushed,  growing  pinker  than  ever.  *'  I  am  sorry," 
continued  the  Grasshopper,  "  that  you  cannot  hop 
about.  I  am  sure  it  would  give  every  one  in  our 
field  the  greatest  pleasure  to  see  you.  Oh,  if  you 
could  only  hop  about  and  shed  your  delicious  per- 
fume." The  Water-Lily  smiled  (I  suppose  you 
have  never  seen  a  water-lily  smile,  and  did  n't 
know  they  could  do  so,  but  this  was  a  very  re- 
markable lily). 

'•  Little  Grasshopper,"  said  she,  "  I  should  feel 
sad  indeed  if  I  thought  I  should  remain  here  for- 
ever, and  do  no  good  in  the  world ;  but  my  brothers 
and  sisters  have  always  been  taken  to  the  hot, 
dusty  city,  and  given  to  poor  people,  many  of 
whom  have  never  seen  the  beautiful  country,  and 


A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City.     125 

the  green  growing  things.  They  have  been  happy 
in  seeing  the  lilies,  and  the  lilies  themselves  have 
been  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  they  were  giving 
pleasure,  and  so  doing  good." 

She  had  scarcely  finished  speaking,  when 
voices  were  heard,  and  two  boys  appeared,  one 
holding  a  large  bunch  of  beautiful  water-lilies. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  pointing  to  our  lily,  '*  here  is  a 
fine  pink  one.     I  must  pick  that." 

Meanwhile,  the  Grasshopper  had  been  thinking 
over  what  the  Lily  had  said,  and  he,  too,  longed 
to  do  good.  He  knew  he  was  a  fine  jumper,  for 
his  father  had  often  told  him  so,  and  he  also  knew 
that  he  was  a  pretty  little  fellow,  being  very  green 
and  having  long  slender  legs.  He  thought  : 
'*  Now  perhaps  those  poor  city  people  would  like 
to  see  a  grasshopper  fresh  from  the  country."  In 
a  twinkling  his  mind  was  made  up.  He,  too, 
would  go  to  the  city  ;  so  he  jumped  right  into 
the  very  heart  of  the  Lily.     She  was  surprised,  but 

pleased. 

The  boy,  meanwhile,  waded  into  the  shallow 
water,  picked  the  Lily,  and  walked  with  it  a  long 


126    A  Grasshoppers  Trip  to  the  City. 

way  down  a  wooded  road  till  he  came  to  a  railway 
station.  Soon  a  train  came  "puff,  puff,  puffing" 
along.  The  Grasshopper  was  very  much  fright- 
ened, and  clung  closely  to  the  Lily.  She  herself 
was  trembling  with  fear,  but  said  kindly,  **  Do  not 
be  afraid,  I  will  protect  you,  dear."  The  train 
stopped,  and  the  boy  with  the  flowers  clasped 
tightly  in  his  hand,  stepped  on  board  and  walked 
through  the  car,  calling  : 

"  Lilies,  lilies  for  sale,  ten  cents  a  bunch  !  " 
A  lady  bought  them,  and  on  they  went  toward 
the  dusty  city.  Before  very  long  the  train,  the 
lady,  the  lilies,  and  the  Grasshopper  arrived.  Then 
they  took  a  horse-car,  and  on  they  went  again,  till 
they  came  to  a  big  red  building,  which  they  en- 
tered. Over  its  door  was  the  name,  "  Children's 
Hospital,"  but  the  Lily  and  the  Grasshopper  did 
not  know  that,  for  they  had  never  been  taught  to 
read.  Another  lady,  dressed  in  black  and  wearing 
a  tall  white  cap,  now  appeared,  and  taking  the 
flowers  placed  them  in  a  green  vase  filled  with 
water.  And  oh,  how  glad  they  were  to  taste  water 
again,  for  they  were  very  thirsty. 


A  Grasshoppers  Trip  to  the  City.    127 

*'  I  brought  these,"  said  the  first  lady,  "  thinking 
that  perhaps  the  poor  children  at  the  hospital,  who 
are  ill  and  suffering,  might  enjoy  them." 

"  Indeed  they  will,"  said  the  other  lady. 

Then  the  lilies  were  taken  into  a  large  room, 
where  there  were  many  small  white  beds,  side  by 
side,  and  on  each  bed  lay  a  little  child.  They  were 
good  children,  and  although  they  were  all  ill,  they 
knew  they  were  there  to  be  made  better  by  the  kind 
doctors  and  nurses,  so  they  were  very  patient  and 
uncomplaining. 

When  the  lilies  were  brought  in,  many  heads 
were  raised  to  look  at  them,  while  many  voices 
said,  "How  beautiful,"  and  one  boy  asked,  "What 
are  those  pretty  things?  Flowers  ? "  Poor  fellow 
he  had  never  seen  any  water-lilies  before.  The 
nurse  let  each  child  smell  them,  and  the  pink  Lily 
whispered  to  the  Grasshopper,  "  Now  I  am  happy, 
for  I  am  doing  good."  The  flowers  were  placed 
on  a  small  table  between  two  beds. 

"  Lily  dear,"  said  the  Grasshopper,  "  don't  you 
think  this  is  a  good  time  for  me  to  appear  ?  I  am 
sure  these  children  will  be  glad  to  see  me.     I  will 


128   A  Grasshoppers  Trip  to  the  City. 

hop  from  bed  to  bed,  so  that  each  child  may  have 
a  good  look  at  me.  Then  I,  too,  shall  be  doing 
good." 

''  Well,"  said  the  Lily,  "go." 

So  out  hopped  the  little  fellow,  first  on  the 
bed  nearest.  But  the  girl  who  lay  there,  did  n't 
see  him,  so  he  jumped  directly  on  her  hand.  But 
the  child,  who  had  never  seen  a  grasshopper 
before,  was  so  frightened  that  she  screamed 
loudly. 

'*  'T  was  a  bug,  a  horrid  green  bug,"  she 
said  to  the  nurse,  who  hurried  to  her  bedside. 
The  Grasshopper,  much  frightened,  jumped  to  the 
next  bed,  and  then  to  the  next,  but  alas,  alas, 
only  to  be  met  with  shrieks  of  fear.  The  nurses 
ran  from  bed  to  bed  trying  to  catch  him,  scream- 
ing too,  and  I  am  sure  he  would  have  screamed 
louder  than  any  of  them  only  he  did  n't  know 
how  to  do  it.  At  last  he  managed  to  hop  back 
unseen  to  his  friend,  the  Lily,  and  curled  down 
in  his  old  place,  crying  bitterly.  She  comforted 
him,  folding  her  petals  closely  about  him,  and  he 
lay  there  hidden  and  at  rest.      There  he  remained 


A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City.     129 

for  several  days,  till  at  last  the  Lily  told  him  she 
was  dying. 

"We  must  all  die,  you  know,  and  I  have  done 
my  work,  so  am  ready  to  go." 

The  next  morning,  when  the  Grasshopper  said, 
**  Good  morning,  dear  Lily,"  she  did  not  answer. 
Her  beautiful  head  was  drooping.     She  was  dead. 

Soon  the  nurse  came,  and  taking  the  flowers, 
away,  threw  them  into  an  ash-barrel.  The  Grass- 
hopper hopped  out,  and  kissing  his  Lily  for  the 
last  time,  sat  near  her,  on  the  top  of  the  rubbish. 
He  felt  very  badly,  for  his  only  friend  had  gone 
from  him.  A  man  soon  appeared,  who  emptied 
the  contents  of  the  barrel  into  a  big  wagon,  but 
the  Grasshopper  jumped  just  in  time,  and  landed 
on  the  very  top  of  the  load  —  a  little  speck 
of  bright  green,  in  the  midst  of  the  ashes  and 
rubbish.  The  cart  rattled  noisily  over  the  city 
streets,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  sea.  Its 
contents  were  emptied  into  a  big  boat,  which 
ivas  waiting  at  the  wharf  Again  the  Grasshopper 
jumped,  and  once  more  found  himself  on  the 
irery  top  of  everything.     He   looked  about  and 


1 30    A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City. 

saw  rubbish,  rubbish,  rubbish,  everywhere.  "  Tchu, 
tchu,  tchu,"  and  on  went  the  steamboat  down  the 
harbor. 

An  old  tin  Can  that  was  lying  near,  said, 
"Good  morning.     Baaaa." 

''Good  morning,"  answered  the  Grasshopper, 
''but  why  'baaaa'?" 

"Because,"  said  the  Can,  proudly,  "I  am  a 
Mutton-can,  so  of  course  I  say  *  baaaa.'  " 

"  Oh,    of  course,"    assented    the    Grasshopper, 
adding  politely,  "  I  am  sure  it  sounded  very  pretty,    , 
only  I  did  n't  know  quite  what  it  meant.  Sir."  ' 

"  Quite  excusable,"  said  the  Can. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  " 

"  To  be  emptied  into  the  sea,"  answered  the 
Can.  Then  noticing  the  terrified  look  on  the 
Grasshopper's  face,  he  added :  "  You  must  not 
give  yourself  the  slightest  uneasiness,  however, 
for  I  can  float." 

After  this  abominably  selfish  speech,  the  Can 
settled  himself  back  very  comfortably,  and  smiled. 

"  But  /can't  float,"  said  the  poor  Grasshopper, 
"  and  what  will  become  of  me  ?  " 


A  Grasshopper's  Trip  to  the  City.     1 3 1 

"Get  off,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

"Where?" 

"We  stop  at  another  wharf  farther  down  the 
harbor,  and  there  will  be  your  chance.     Baaaa  !  " 

"Thank  you,  kind  Can.  I  will,"  said  the 
Grasshopper,  and  when  they  reached  the  next 
wharf,   off  he  jumped. 

He  hopped  and  hopped  till  he  came  to  a  stone 
wall,  and  over  this  he  skipped,  finding  himself  in  a 
beautiful  field,  in  which  grew  a  wilderness  of 
daisies. 

"  How  do  you  do?"  said  they. 

"And  how  are  you?"  answered  he.  "What 
is  the  name  of  this  place  ?  " 

"Quincy." 

"What!"  cried  the  Grasshopper,  "then  this 
is  where  I  live."  Just  then  he  saw,  not  far  away, 
a  large  red  house,  which  he  at  once  recognized  as 
the  home  of  Southworth  and  Propriety. 

I  am  sure  no  grasshopper  ever  hopped  his  little 
way  to  his  home  more  quickly  than  this  one.  Soon 
he  came  to  his  own  field,  and  there  under  the 
home-daisy  sat  his  mamma  crying  bitterly  for  her 


132     A  Grasshoppers  Trip  to  the  City. 

son.  As  he  came  near  he  heard  her  say  :  "  Oh,  I 
shall  never,  never  see  him  again."  Then  up  he 
went  and  gave  her  one  big  kiss  on  her  cheek. 
When  she  saw  who  it  was,  she  cried  again,  but 
this  time  it  was  from  joy,  and  the  Grasshopper 
cried  with  her.  Soon  his  papa,  and  all  his  brothers 
and  sisters  came  up,  and  he  told  them  about  his 
travels.  When  he  had  finished,  he  said  to  his 
mother :  "I  shall  never  go  away  from  you  again, 
but  always  live  here  in  this  field."  And  they  say 
that  he  lived  to  a  "green  old  age,"  but  then,  to 
be  ^re,  he  was  very  green,  to  begin  with. 


THE  LIGHT-HOUSE  LAMP. 

I  AM  now  going  to  tell  you  about  a  lamp.  Not 
the  kind  that  you  are  used  to,  but  one  much 
bigger.  She  lived  in  the  very  top  of  a  light- 
house, which  stood  upon  a  small  island  far  out  at 
sea.  The  island  was  good  and  gentle  herself,  but 
all  about  her  were  dangerous,  cruel  rocks.  Some 
of  them  lifted  their  dark,  sullen  heads  far  above 
the  water,  and  in  the  daytime  could  be  plainly 
seen,  when  of  course,  the  sailors  kept  away  from 
them,  but  at  night,  the  boats  might  have  sailed 
directly  upon  them,  had  it  not  been  for  our  good 
Lamp.  In  the  light-house  lived  a  man  and  his 
wife.  The  man  loved  his  Lamp,  and  it  was  well 
worthy  his  affection,  for  in  spite  of  two  very  large 
wicks,  it  was  itself  anything  but  wicked,  and  had 
really  no  vice,  although  once  in  a  great  while,  it 

.133 


134         The  Light-House  Lamp. 

did  smoke.     The  man  gave  much  time  to  it,  keep- 
ing it  always  bright  and  shining,  and  in  return  for 


this   kind   care,  the   Lamp   burned   with    a  clear, 
strong  blaze  that  could  be  seen  for  miles,  shining 


The  Light- House  Lamp.  135 

through  the  light-house  windows,  which  sur- 
rounded it  on  all  sides. 

One  night  after  the  Lamp  had  been  lighted,  a 
dreadful  storm  arose.  The  wind  roared.  The 
waves  dashed  higher  and  higher,  but  the  Lamp 
burned  on.  The  light-house  keeper  came  up  to 
see  that  all  was  right,  and  spoke  to  it  as  he  often 
did. 

"  Burn  brightly,  my  good  Lamp,  and  you  and  I 
between  us  may  save  many  a  life  this  night." 

"  I  will,  I  will,  master,"  said  the  Lamp. 

Still  louder  roared  the  dreadful  wind,  and 
higher  and  higher  dashed  the  waves.  One  lifted 
his  head  so  high  that  he  looked  through  the  light- 
house window,  directly  into  the  Lamp's  face,  but 
she  did  not  flinch. 

"Go  out,"  said  the  waves. 

"Yes,  go  out,"  roared  the  wind.  "There  is  a 
big  steamer  coming,  and  heading  directly  for  these 
rocks.  I  will  blow  her  on  them,  and  my  friends, 
the  waves,  will  dash  her  over  and  over  against 
them,  and  destroy  her." 

"  Cruel,  cruel,"  cried  the  Lamp,  "  but  I  will  pre- 


136         The  Light- House  Lamp. 

vent  your  doing  this  wicked  thing.  I  will  save 
these^people,  in  spite  of  you,"  and  the  brave 
Lamp  burned  brighter  than  ever.  And  the  poor, 
exhausted  sailors  in  the  storm-tossed  boat  saw  at 
last  the  light. 

*'0h,"  said  they,  "there  must  be  rocks  near, 
for  see,  that  is  a  light-house,"  and  they  turned  the 
boat  quickly  from  the  danger,  and  went  safely  on 
their  way,  blessing  the  little  Lamp  who  had  done 
so  much  for  them.  Then  the  wind  and  the  waves 
were  very,  very  angry. 

"  We  will  put  out  this  saucy  Lamp,  who  dares 
to  put  her  puny  strength  against  our  might." 

So  they  made  still  greater  efforts,  and  the  dash- 
ing of  the  waves  and  the  roaring  of  the  wind  were 
horrible  to  hear.  **  Such  a  storm  as  this  was  surely 
never  known,"  said  the  keeper  to  his  wife,  "  but  do 
not  fear,  the  light-house  is  firm."  And  above  them 
the  Lamp  burned  calmly  on,  happy  in  the  knowl- 
edge that  she  had  done  right.  Then  the  wind 
and  the  waves,  tired  out  at  last,  rested  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  in  the  silence  the  Lamp  spoke  to  them, 
telling  them  how  wickedly  they  had  acted. 


The  Light-House  Lamp.  137 

**  Don't  you  know  why  you,  with  all  your 
power,  were  unable  to  do  anything  against  me?" 

"No,"  said  they. 

"  Because,"  said  she,  *'  on  my  side  is  right,  and 
on  yours  wrong,  and  wrong  cannot  stand  against 
right.  How  much  better  it  would  be  if  you  would 
use  your  great  power  to  help  me  in  doing  good." 

And  at  last,  do  you  know,  the  wind  and  the 
waves,  listening  to  these  words,  began  to  feel  very 
badly  for  their  wickedness.  The  waves  shed  tears 
(at  least,  I  suppose  they  were  tears,  as  they  were 
very  salt)  and  all  through  the  night,  the  wind 
sighed  and  moaned  piteously  round  the  light- 
house, while  the  waves  sobbed  and  kissed  the 
island  below,  in  their  sorrow.  In  the  morning 
they  said  : 

"  We  will  help  you,  dear  little  Lamp,  and  we 
will  try  hard  to  be  good,  if  you  will  show  us  how." 

This  the  Lamp  gladly  promised  to  do.  And 
the  wind  and  the  waves  have  kept  their  word,  for 
if  a  ship  comes  near  those  rocks  in  a  storm,  the 
wind  simply  blows  it  by  the  dangerous  place,  and 
I  am  happy  to  say  there  has  never,  never  been  a 
wreck  there. 


MONKEY  TRICKS  IN  THE  JUNGLE. 

THIS  is  the  story  of  a  little  gray  Elephant 
He  was  not  a  circus  Elephant,  but  lived 
at  his  home,  which  was  far,  far  away  in 
Africa.  If  you  or  I  had  been  there,  we  should 
\iave  found  many  strange,  interesting  things  to 
i^ee,  but  the  Elephant  cared  not  for  them.  He 
only  knew  that  this  was  home,  and  the  place  where 
his  big  gray  mamma  and  he  lived  happily  to- 
gether. His  mother  was  very  kind  and  allowed 
him  to  go  wherever  he  liked,  and  his  **  likes  "  took 
him  sometimes  far  from  his  home,  for  he  was  a 
great  walker.  His  trunk,  he  always  kept  with  him, 
in  readiness  for  his  journeys. 

One  day,  he  bade  his  mother  good-bye,  and 
started  out  on  a  long,  long  tramp.  He  passed 
many   gorgeous    flowers    that    you    or   I    should 


Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle.    139 

have  picked,  had  we  been  there.  The  air  was 
alive  with  the  cries  of  strange  creatures,  and 
beautiful  birds  were  constantly  flying  by  him,  their 
brilliant  green,  crimson,  and  orange  plumage  al- 
most too  dazzling  to  look  at.  But  the  Elephant 
paid  not  the  slightest  attention  to  them.  We 
never  notice  sparrows,  and  to  him  these  gorgeous 
birds  were  simply  sparrows,  and  he  had  seen  them 
all  his  life. 

On  and  on  he  went.  Once  he  heard  a  low, 
threatening  growl,  a  rustling  in  the  bushes,  and 
he  turned  quickly  back,  choosing  another  path. 
He  was  much  frightened,  for  well  he  knew  that 
that  low  sound  meant  that  a  lion  was  near.  His 
face  grew  fairly  gray  with  fright — at  least  it  would 
have  done  so,  had  it  not  already  been  so  very 
gray.  But  he  heard  no  more  from  the  lion. 
Soon  he  began  to  feel  tired  and  hungry. 

"I  will  lunch,"  said  he,  and  choosing  a  cool, 
comfortable  place  under  the  shade  of  a  big  palm 
tree,  he  began.  He  had  chicken-sandwiches,  pic- 
kles, French-fried  potatoes,  custard  pie,  caramels, 
— no,  I  fear  I  have  made  a  mistake.     That  was  not 


140     Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle. 

exactly  the  luncheon  that  this  little  African  Ele-  * 
phant  had,  after  all.  He  had — well,  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  am  not  quite  sure  what  he  did  have,  but 
I  know  that  it  was  good.  He  finished  with  a 
long  draught  of  the  delicious  jungle-ade  (please 
don't  ask  me  how  to  make  this,  as  it  can  only 
be  made  correctly  in  Africa). 

Just  as  he  was  finishing,  he  heard  a  "  chat, 
chat,  chattering,"  and  looking  up  saw  a  mischiev- 
ous little  monkey  sitting  overhead,  and  swinging 
himself  lazily  back  and  forth  on  a  branch.  He 
had  bent  a  very  thirsty  eye  upon  what  remained 
of  the  jungle-ade,  and  the  Elephant,  seeing  this, 
said  cordially : 

**  Have  some  ?  " 

He  was  a  generous  soul,  and  then  also  he 
had  really  had  as  much  jungle-ade  as  it  was 
possible  for  one  young  elephant  to  drink.  The 
Monkey  seized  the  cup,  and  there  was  soon  no 
jungle-ade. 

*'  Elephant,  that  was  delicious,  and  I  am  sure  I 
thank  you  very  much,"  said  he,  ''and  now,  can  I 
not  in  return  do  something  for  you  ?  " 


Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle.      141 

"Yes,  you  can.  A  gnat  has  just  bitten  me," 
said  the  Elephant,  sadly. 

"Really?"  said  the  Monkey.  "Well,  you 
are  not  the  first  one  who  has  been  bitten  by  a 
gnat." 

"  But  he  bit  me  on  my  back,"  said  the  Ele- 
phant, "where  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  scratch. 
I  have  tried  and  tried,  but  alas,  it  is  just  out  of 
reach  of  my  trunk.  Now,  Monkey,  if  you  will 
scratch  it  for  me,  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged."  And 
the  Monkey  did.  But  alas,  the  naughty  little  fel- 
low did  it  too  well,  for  he  scratched  and  scratched 
and  scratched  and  scratched. 

"Stop,  stop,  stop,"  yelled  the  Elephant. 

**  Dh  no,"  said  the  Monkey,  "  I  am  sharpening 
my  nails  beautifully  and  I  dont  want  to  stop." 

"I  will  punish  you,"  said  the  Elephant. 

But  the  Monkey  only  laughed  at  this  threat. 
"  You  told  me  yourself  that  you  could  not  reach 
this  spot,"  and  on  he  scratched,  for  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  he  was  far  from  being  a  good  monkey. 

"  That  may  be  so,  but  I  know  what  I  can  do," 
said  the  Elephant.     "  I  can  take  you  home  to  my 


142     Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle. 

mamma  who  can  and  will  reach  you,  for  you  shall 
be  punished  for  your  naughtiness,"  and  without 
more  ado,  he  started. 

I  wish,  children,  we  could  have  been  there  to 
see  that  Elephant  run — for  he  fairly  flew.  He 
kept  to  no  path,  but  dashed  on,  crushing  the 
flowers,  breaking  the  branches  of  the  trees,  in  his 
headlong  flight.  "Scurry,  scurry,"  went  the  ani- 
mals out  of  his  path,  and  all  the  birds  and  insects 
fairly  bumped  against  each  other  in  their  eagerness 
to  get  away  from  this  mad,  rushing  creature — they 
scarcely  knew  what  he  was,  so  fast  he  flew.  And 
the  Monkey  clung  closely  to  him,  his  teeth  chat- 
tering with  fear. 

'*  If  I  fall,  I  may  be  killed,  and  if  I  manage  to 
stick  on,  I  know  I  shall  be,  when  we  get  to  his 
home.  Oh,  what  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I  do  ?"  he 
wailed.  It  was  truly  not  a  pleasant  outlook  for 
any  monkey,  now  was  it  ? 

But  deliverance  was  at  hand,  for  there  right 
before  him  was  a  low  hanging  branch.  '*  Can  I 
but  reach  that,  I  am  safe,"  he  thought.  They  are 
near  it,  are  at  it, — one  spring  gives  the  monkey, 


144     Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle. 

and,  hurrah !  reaches  it,  and  grasping  it  firmly 
swings  himself  up  to  safety.  Climbing  to  the  top- 
most branch,  he  yells  derisively  to  the  fast  disap- 
pearing Elephant : 

"  Stupid  little  Elephant, 
Big-eared  Elephant, 
Waddling  Elephant, 
Wrinkles  on  yer  skin, 
Silly  little  Elephant. 
Bob-tailed  Elephant, 
You  can't  catch  a  Monkey, 
You  '  no  count '  thing" — 

which  was,  on  the  Monkey's  part,  most  reprehen- 
sible, and  which  I  am  happy  to  say  was  unheard 
by  the  Elephant,  who,  meanwhile,  quite  uncon- 
scious of  what  had  happened,  flew  on. 

"Wait,"  he  said,  "we  are  almost  there,  and 
your  punishment  is  coming,  bad  Monkey." 

Soon  the  home  was  reached,  and  there  stood 
his  mother.  "Mamma,  Mamma,"  he  shouted, 
"  take  him  off,  quickly,  and  punish  him,  for  he  has 
been  very  naughty." 

"What  do  you  mean,  child?"  said  she. 
*'  Punish  whom  ?  " 


Monkey  Tricks  in  the  Jungle.      145 

"Why,  the  Monkey  who  is  sitting  on  my 
back." 

"There  is  no  monkey  on  your  back." 

"What,  no  monkey?"  screamed  the  Elephant. 

His  mother,  meanwhile,  came  nearer,  and 
looking  him  closely  in  the  face,  said  sternly  :  "  My 
son,  did  you  have  jungle-ade  with  your  lunch- 
eon ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  faltered  (for  he  knew  his  mother 
had  forbidden  him  to  touch  it). 

"Then,"  said  she,  "I  am  not  surprised  that 
you  talk  of  monkeys.  Go  to  bed  at  once,  and 
without  your  supper." 

So  it  was  the  poor  little  Elephant  who  had  the 
punishment.  And  to  this  day,  he  cannot  imagine 
what  could  have  become  of  that  Monkey. 


THE  UPSIDEDOWNIANS. 

IT  was  a  lovely  summer  afternoon  when  Molly 
and  Sam  went  for  a  sail  with  their  Uncle  Jack. 
They  had  taken  a  basket  with  plenty  of  sup- 
per, for  they  were  going  for  such  a  long  sail  that 
they  could  not  get  home  before  nine  o'clock.  It 
would  be  a  bright  moonlight  night,  however,  and 
the  boat  was  a  safe  one.  Off  they  went,  and 
waving  their  hands  to  Mamma,  as  long  as  they 
could  see  her,  they  sailed  away  and  away. 

"Now,  children,"  said  their  uncle,  "let  us  go 
straight  out  to  the  open  ocean.  We  will  sail  as 
fast  as  we  can,  till  five  o'clock,  and  then  we  will 
turn  about  and  come  home." 

With  the  children's  help,  and  they  were  a  great 
help,  he  spread  all  sail,  and  away  flew  the  Dragon- 
fly  over  the  water.     At  first   they  saw   a  great 

146 


The  Upsidedownians.  147 

many  boats  like  their  own,  and  even  smaller,  then 
fewer  and  fewer,  until,  at  last,  only  one  or  two 
stately  ships  were  to  be  seen.  Then  they  met  a 
big  ocean  steamer  ploughing  the  water,  throwing 
the  white  waves  to  right  and  left.  When  the  peo- 
ple on  board  saw  the  little  sail-boat  bobbing  up 
and  down  on  the  water,  they  waved  their  handker- 
chiefs at  Uncle  Jack  and  the  two  children,  who 
took  off  their  hats  in  return. 

When  it  was  five  o'clock,  and  time  to  turn 
about  for  home,  the  wind  suddenly  died  out,  and 
the  unfilled  sail  flapped  uselessly  at  the  mast.  It 
began  to  grow  dark,  too,  while  just  over  their 
heads  they  saw  a  big  black  cloud,  which  looked 
most  threatening.  Fearing  that  a  thunder  storm 
was  coming,  and  realizing  their  danger,  Uncle  Jack 
sprang  to  take  in  sail.  But  he  was  already  too 
late,  for  the  storm  was  upon  them!  The  cloud 
above  suddenly  burst,  a  torrent  of  rain  de- 
scended, and  the  wind  blew  furiously.  Bidding 
the  two  children  lie  down  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,  and  keep  perfectly  quiet,  Uncle  Jack  worked 
frantically  with  the  big  sail,  and  at  last  succeeded 


148  The  Upsidedownians. 

in  taking  it  in.  As  soon  as  the  sail  was  down,  the 
boat,  which  had  been  rolling  frightfully,  righted 
itself  somewhat,  and  poor  Uncle  Jack  and  the  two 
trembling  children  knew  that  their  present  danger 
was  over. 

And  now  the  Dragon-fly  raced  madly  on, 
blown  by  the  furious  gale.  Uncle  Jack  keeping  her 
as  steady  as  possible,  and  aiming  for — he  knew 
not  where.  The  sky  was  as  black  as  night,  and 
the  howling  of  the  wind  in  the  rigging  was  dread- 
ful. For  fifteen  minutes  this  storm  continued, 
then  the  sky  began  to  lighten  a  bit,  the  wind  died 
gradually  out,  and  the  sun  shone  on  them  again, 
for  it  had  been  only  a  summer  storm,  and  though 
violent,  did  not  last  long.  And  now,  to  their  utter 
amazement,  they  saw  directly  before  them  an  isl- 
and which  was  quite  unknown,  even  to  Uncle  Jack 
who  had  sailed  in  these  waters  for  years.  Between 
them  and  the  island,  however,  and  standing  like 
sentinels  on  guard,  was  a  reef  of  angry  looking 
rocks,  against  which  the  breakers  were  dashing 
with  tremendous  force.  "We  must  keep  away 
from  them,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  when  to  his  horror, 


The  Upsidedownians.  149 

he  found  that  a  very  strong  current  was  carrying 
the  boat  directly  upon  them  ! 

In  vain  did  he  try  to  turn  it,  while  the  children 
sat  silently  with  white  faces,  clasping  each  others 
hands,  and  expecting  every  moment  to  be  dashed 
to  pieces.  "If  we  can  but  reach  the  quiet  water 
beyond,"  thought  Uncle  Jack,  "we  shall  be  all 
right,"  and  to  his  unutterable  relief,  the  waves,  in- 
stead of  dashing  them  against  the  cruel  rocks, 
carried  them  right  between  two  tall  ones,  into  the 
still  water.  But  when  the  boat  got  there,  it  im- 
mediately turned  upside  down,  breaking  the  mast, 
and  throwing  them  and  everything  else  out.  For- 
tunately, being  near  the  shore,  the  water  was  not 
more  than  two  feet  deep,  so  the  spill  did  not  in- 
jure them  in  any  way,  except  to  give  them  a 
ducking.  Taking  the  rope  which  was  on  the  bow 
of  the  Dragon-fly,  they  all  waded  ashore,  and  Uncle 
Jack  fastened  the  rope  to  the  stump  of  a  tree. 

"  Now  come,  children,"  said  he,  "  let  us 
look  about;  there  may  be  people  on  this  island, 
who  will  help  us.  We  must  dry  our  clothes,  and 
mend  our  boat  before  we  can  go  home." 


150  The  Upsidedownians. 

"Uncle,"  said  Sam,  "what  shall  we  do  if  there 
are  no  people  here?" 

"Well,  in  that  case,  we  will  make  a  fire  oun 
selves.  I  have  matches  in  my  pocket,  and  there 
seems  to  be  plenty  of  wood.  But  first,  let  us 
make  sure  that  we  are  on  a  desert  island." 

So  they  turned  from  the  water,  and  walked  on, 
when  to  their  amazement,  they  saw  coming  toward 
them,  three  most  astonishing  figures  !  A  very  old 
man,  and  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl  about  the 
age  of  Sam  and  Molly.  There  was  nothing  ve/y 
remarkable  about  this,  but  can  you  believe  me, 
when  I  tell  you  that  all  three  were  walking  on 
their  hands,  while  their  feet  stuck  straight  up  in 
the  air  !  Each  had  a  pair  of  brushes,  like  blacking 
brushes,  their  hands  being  thrust  through  the 
straps  at  the  back,  and  on  these  they  walked,  to 
protect  their  hands  from  the  rough  stones.  But 
when  they  came  near,  each  jumped  quickly  on  his 
feet,,  and  taking  off  one  brush,  shook  hands  heart- 
ily with  the  strangers,  bidding  them  welcome  to 
the  Upsidedown  Island. 

"  You  were  very  fortunate  not  to  get  drowned," 


The  Upsidedownians. 


151 


said  the  old  man.  ''  People  who  are  bold  enough 
to  try  to  come  to  this  island,  are  dashed  first 
against  those  rocks,  and  then  turned  upside  down." 
"  But  we  did  not  try  to  come,"  said  Molly, 
"the  waves  brought  us." 


"Ah,"  said  the  old  man,  "that  is  probably 
why  you  escaped.  The  rocks  guard  us,  and  do 
not  let  inquisitive  people  land.  However,  as  the 
waves  have  brought  you,  in  spite  of  yourselves, 


152  The  Upsidedownians. 

you  are  heartily  welcome.  But  you  are  wet,  come 
to  my  house,  dry  your  clothes  and  have  dinner." 
So  saying,  the  three  thrust  their  hands  into  their 
brush-straps,  and  walking  as  before,  led  the  way 
to  the  village. 

Of  course,  there  could  be  no  conversation, 
while  these  strange  people  were  in  this  ridiculous 
position,  so  that  Uncle  Jack  and  the  two  children 
had  ample  time  to  look  about  them.  And  many 
strange  things  they  saw.  Fields  carefully  culti- 
vated, and  trees  that  looked  like  our  trees,  but 
which  bore  the  strangest  fruit  you  can  imagine.  In 
a  field,  at  a  little  distance,  they  saw  what  looked 
like  bean-poles,  which,  however,  were  waving  back 
and  forth.  When  they  got  nearer,  they  found  they 
were  not  poles  at  all,  but  the  legs  of  a  herd  of 
cows,  the  cows  themselves  lying  flat  on  their 
backs,  with  their  legs  straight  up  in  the  air,  and 
turning  their  heads  over  occasionally  to  get  a  nib- 
ble at  the  rich,  green  grass. 

When  Uncle  Jack  and  the  children  reached  the 
village,  they  found  that  everyone  there  was  walk- 
ing in  the  same  absurd  way,  as  the  \hree  who  had 


The  Upsidedownians.  153 

met  them.  They  could  not  help  asking  why  this 
was  done. 

"  Dry  your  clothes  first,"  said  the  old  man, 
"and  have  your  dinner  with  us,  and  then  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  us  Upsidedownians.  Dinner 
will  be  ready  before  long.  See,  there  are  my  two 
grandsons  picking  the  potatoes  and  digging  the 
apples,"  and  Uncle  Jack  and  the  two  children 
actually  did  see  them,  doing  this  very  thing.  One 
of  the  boys  was  picking  potatoes  from  a  tree,  while 
the  other  was  digging  rosy  cheeked  apples  from 
the  brown  earth  1 1  They  could  scarcely  wait  to 
be  told  the  meaning  of  all  this. 

After  their  clothes  had  been  thoroughly  dried, 
they  were  called  to  dinner,  and  were  relieved  to 
find  that  the  Upsidedownians  sat  at  the  table  as 
they  themselves  did,  keeping  their  feet  down  on 
the  ground.  The  dinner  itself  was  a  queer  affair, 
although  the  food  was  excellent,  and  well-cooked. 
First  they  were  given  candied  fruit,  and  a  dish  of 
the  ripe  red  apples  they  saw  dug  from  the  ground. 
Then  they  had  fish  and  some  of  the  potatoes 
which  they  had  seen  picked  from  the  trees,  and 


154  The  Upsldedownians. 

lastly,  some  soup  made  from  the  roots  of  a  plant 
which  grew  on  the  island. 

"You  are  surprised,"  said  the  old  man,  "that 
we  serve  our  soup  last,  but  the  reason  is  simple. 
You  see,  standing  as  we  Upsidedownians  do,  so 
much  of  the  time,  with  our  heads  down,  our  stom- 
achs get,  after  a  while,  turned  topsy-turvy,  so  that 
we  are  obliged  to  begin  with  the  dessert,  and  end 
with  the  soup,  in  order  that  our  dinner  may  be 
properly  digested." 

And  Uncle  Jack  said,  "  I  see,"  for  he  really 
was  not  quite  sure,  whether  he  himself  was  stand- 
ing on  his  head  or  his  heels.  "But  why,"  he 
asked,  "  do  you  walk  on  your  hands  at  all  ?  " 

"I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  old  man.  "This 
then  is  the  history  of  our  people.  Our  great-great- 
great  grandparents  were  people  who  lived  in  a 
country  far  from  here.  They  were  not  satisfied 
there.  They  thought  everything  was  wrong,  and 
longed  to  go  to  some  far-away  land,  where  they 
could  make  a  new  world,  with  everything  their 
own  way.  They  went  off  in  a  big  ship  and  sailed 
and  sailed  for  a  year  and  a  day,  but  every  land 


The  Upsidedownians.  155 

they  came  to,  had  people  on  it,  all  doing  just  as 
in  the  land  which  they  had  left.  At  last,  one  day 
our  island  was  reached,  and  sailing  around  and 
around  it,  they  could  see  no  house,  no  man,  wo- 
man, nor  child,  and  they  said  :  *  Here  we  will  land, 
here  we  will  live,  where  we  can  have  everything 
our  own  way.'  But  when  they  tried  to  land,  the 
rocks  seized  their  boats  and  turned  them  upside- 
down,  spilling  them  all  out  into  the  water  !  For- 
tunately, it  happened  to  be  a  calm  day,  when  the 
water  was  like  glass,  and,  though  with  much  diffi- 
culty, they  all  managed  to  get  safely  to  land. 
Here  they  lived,  and  here  their  children,  and 
great-great-great  grandchildren  have  lived  ever 
since.  We  try  hard  to  do  everything  quite  dif- 
ferently from  the  way  they  do  in  the  land  our 
grandparents  came  from." 

"  I  think  you  have  succeeded  admirably,"  said 
Uncle  Jack,  heartily. 

**You  do?  Ah,  well  we  do  our  best,  we  do 
our  best,"  and  the  old  man  rubbed  his  hands  to- 
gether, delightedly. 

"Of  course,  it  was  hard  for  us  to  learn  to  walk 


156  The  Upsidedownians. 

on  our  hands,  and  hard,  too,  to  make  potato^ 
grow  on  trees,  and  apples  in  the  earth,  but  we 
succeeded  at  last,"  he  said,  triumphantly. 

"Yes,  you  have  indeed  succeeded,"  said  Uncle 
Jack,  "but  will  you  tell  me,  why  is  your  way 
better  than  the  old  ?  " 

"Because  it  is  our  way,"  said  the  old  man, 
and  to  this  Uncle  Jack  could  find  no  possible 
answer.  "  Our  power  and  influence  are  great. 
Our  will  here  is  law,  and  all  who  approach  our 
island  must  obey  that  law.  Look  up,  stranger. 
Watch  that  gull." 

"  Looking  up.  Uncle  Jack  and  the  children  saw 
a  huge  gull  flying  lazily  toward  the  island,  his 
white  wings  spread  and  glistening  in  the  bright 
sunlight.  He  went  in  the  ordinary  way  till  he  was 
directly  over  them  when  he  immediately  turned 
and  flew  upside-down  till  he  found  himself  once 
more  beyond  the  island  and  over  the  water,  when 
he  again  turned,  and  flew  like  a  common,  every- 
day gull. 

"Astonishing,"  said  Uncle  Jack  and  the  chil- 
dren. 

"  Same  with  the  fishes,  whose  home  is  near  the 


The  Upsidedownians.  157 

island,"  said  Smith  Mr.  (for  that,  they  found  was 
the  old  gentleman's  name),  ''and  speaking  of 
fishes,  reminds  me  of  your  boat.  I  suppose  you 
will  want  to  have  us  help  you  mend  and  put  it  in 
proper  condition  again,  for  your  homeward  voyage. 
We  will  do  so  to-morrow,  and  you  will,  I  hope, 
spend  to-night  with  us  ?  There  will  be  plenty  of 
room  for  you  all  on  my  roof" 

"On  the  roof?"  cried  Uncle  Jack,  Sam,  and 
Molly  together.  "Is  it  possible  that  you  Upside- 
downians sleep  on  the  roofs  of  your  houses  ?  " 

"Certainly  we  do,"  said  Smith  Mr.  "We 
would  not  sleep  as  they  do  in  the  land  where  our 
great-great-great  grandfathers  and  also  our  great- 
great-great  grandmothers  came  from." 

"  I  think  we  will  not  spend  the  night  with 
you,"  said  Uncle  Jack,  hastily.  "  But  we  will  be 
greatly  obliged  to  you  Smith  Mr.  if  you  will  give 
us  help  in  mending  our  boat." 

"Gladly,"  said  the  old  man,  and  followed  by 
all  the  village-people  clattering  over  the  rocks  on 
their  brushes,  and  with  feet  held  high  and  straight 
in  air,  they  walked  to  the  shore. 

Pulling  in  the  boat  by  the  rope,  they  all  worked 


158  The  Upsidedownians. 

hard  to  get  it  in  condition,  and  were  so  kind  and 
helpful,  that  everything  was  done  in  less  than  half 
an  hour.  Then,  when  they  were  about  to  start,  a 
boy  came  from  the  village,  balancing  on  his  feet 
a  basket  of  the  tree-potatoes,  and  earth-apples, 
which  he  gave  to  them.  A  glass  of  milk  also  was 
given  to  each  of  the  children.  They  were  aston- 
ished to  see  all  the  cream  settled  at  the  bottom  of 
the  glass. 

**  When  cows  feed,  lying  on  their  backs,"  said 
Smith  Mr.,  *'the  cream  always  falls  to  the  bottom 
of  the  milk." 

As  they  got  into  their  boat,  he  said:  ''You 
may  tell  your  friends  about  us,  that  they  may 
wonder,  but  never  let  them  know  where  this  island 
is.  Promise  me,"  and  Uncle  Jack,  Molly,  and  Sam 
promised,  and  thanking  them  all  for  their  kind- 
ness, the  boat  was  pushed  off.  They  had  great 
difficulty  in  keeping  it  upright,  although  the  water 
was  perfectly  calm.  Twice  before  reaching  the 
rocks,  it  was  almost  upset,  and  the  third  time 
would  have  been,  had  not  the  kind-hearted  Up- 
sidedownians jumped  into  the  water,  and  held  it 


The  Upsidedownians.  159 

This  was,  of  course,  difficult  for  them  to  do,  as 
they  had,  while  in  the  water,  to  stand  on  their 
tender  feet.  But  they  at  last  reached  the  rocks, 
and  then,  all  pushing  together,  out  between  the 
two  high  ones — shot  the  Dragon-fly,  and  the  dan- 
ger was  over. 

Shouting  good-bye  and  waving  their  hats  to 
the  crowd  of  Upsidedownians,  who  stood  on  the 
shore,  with  heads  down,  clapping  their  feet  fran- 
tically together,  the  Dragon-fly  sailed  home,  and 
reached  there  at  just  nine  o'clock. 


THE  IRON  DOG. 

ARNOLD'S  father  and  mother  had  taken  for 
the  summer  a  big,  gray  house,  near  the 
big  gray  sea,  and  they  had  just  come 
down.  Behind  the  house  there  was  a  beautiful 
garden,  a  wild  tangled  garden,  with  more  flowers 
than  you  can  imagine,  climbing  and  growing 
everywhere.  In  front,  the  green,  smooth-shaven 
lawn  sloped  down  to  the  very  sea,  and  standing 
directly  in  the  middle  was  a  large  iron  Dog.  He 
was  big,  he  was  fierce,  his  tail  stuck  straight  up  in 
the  air,  and  no  dog  had  ever  been  known  to  ap- 
proach him.  Arnold's  father,  strange  to  say,  did 
not  appreciate  his  beauties,  and  asked  the  owner 
of  the  place  to  remove  him,  but  as  the  man 
thought  it  would  be  a  difficult  matter,  and  as 
Arnold,  who  was  delighted  with  the  Dog,  begged 


The  Iron  Dog.  i6i 

hard  to  have  him  remain,  his  father  at  last,  con- 
sented. 

"  /  think  that  iron  Dog  is  the  most  beautiful 
thing  here,"  said  Arnold. 

"Then  enjoy  him  to  your  heart's  content," 
said  Papa,  smiling  and  kissing  his  little  boy. 

And  Arnold  did  enjoy  him.  He  got  on  his 
back  and  rode  him,  whacking  him  hard  with 
a  stout  stick.  He  brought  him  make-believe 
dinners,  and  decorated  him  with  beautiful  daisy 
chains.  In  fact,  the  Dog  was  in  every  way  a  most 
satisfactory  companion,  and  they  never  quarrelled. 

One  night,  Arnold's  father  and  mother  went  to 
a  dinner-party.  The  house  was  several  miles 
away,  and  they  were  not  to  return  till  twelve 
o'clock.  "  Bread  and  milk  and  one  cookie  for 
supper,"  said  Mamma,  as  she  kissed  Arnold  good- 
bye. Supper-time  came,  and  with  it  the  large 
bowl  of  rich  milk  and  white  bread,  while  on 
a  small  plate  lay  the  tempting  cookie.  After 
supper,  Arnold  spent  an  hour  playing  with  the 
white  cat  and  her  three  kittens,  and  then  he 
went  to  bed.     But  after  Mary  left  him,  he  could 


1 62  The  Iron  Dog. 

not  seem  to  sleep,  but  tossed  and  turned,  tossed 
and  turned,  fell  asleep  for  a  second,  and  then 
woke  up  again. 

**  Mary,  Mary,"  he  shouted,  but  Mary  had  gone 
out  walking  with  one  of  her  friends,  and  the  lonely 
little  boy  called  in  vain.  At  last  he  got  up,  put 
on  his  slippers,  and  running  to  the  window,  which 
was  wide  open,  looked  out.  The  warm  summer 
air  blew  softly  in,  and  the  moon  which  was  full, 
was  flooding  the  whole  world  with  a  silvery  I'ght. 
A.rnold  could  hear  the  sea  at  the  foot  of  the  lawn 
softly  **  lap-lapping  "  the  shore.  Then  he  saw  his 
friend,  the  Dog,  standing  on  guard,  on  the  lawn, 
looking  bigger  and  more  threatening  than  ever, 
his  shadow  reaching  far  off  at  one  side. 

"  I  will  go  out  into  the  silver  world  and  see  my 
Dog,"  said  he,  "  for  Mary  will  not  come  to  me,  and 
I  am  dreadfully  lonesome." 

So  putting  on  his  little  red  dressing  gown, 
down  stairs  he  ran,  into  the  library,  through  the 
tall  glass  door  to  the  piazza  and  across  the  lawn. 
Ah,  how  delicious  it  was  !  To  his  iron  friend  he 
ran,  and  mounting  him,  put  his  two  warm  arms 


The  Iron  Dog. 


163 


about  his  neck,  and  stooping,  kissed  him  gently 
between  his  ears.  Just  then,  the  bell  in  the  church 
at  Marlscombe,  a  mile  away,  began  to  strike  ten, 
sounding  very  loud  indeed  in  the  stillness  of  the 


night.  While  it  was  yet  striking,  Arnold  became 
aware  of  something  which  frightened  him  so  much 
that  he  almost  fell  off.  For  the  iron  Dog's  body 
beneath  him  had  suddenly  began  to  grow  warm-f 


164  The  Iron  Dog. 

Then  —  in  a  minute  —  his  tail  began  to  move — 
s-1-o-w-l-y,  s-1-o-w-l-y  wagging  from  side  to  side. 
Next  he  gave  himself  a  tremendous  shake,  and 
then — then — he  jumped  from  the  pedestal — a  liv- 
ing Dog! !  And  just  then  the  bell  stopped  ringing. 
Arnold  screamed  in  his  astonishment  and  fright, 
but  the  Dog  looking  back  at  him  with  friendly 
eyes,  said : 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  I  won't  hurt  you.  I  suppose 
you  thought  I  was  a  common,  every-day  iron 
dog?" 

"  I  always  thought  you  a  very  beautiful  dog," 
said  Arnold.     At  this  the  animal  looked  pleased. 

"I  am  very  glad,  Arnold,"  he  said,  "that  you 
happened  to  come  out  to-night.  On  every  other 
night,  I  am  as  other  iron  dogs,  but  on  the  first 
night  of  every  month  from  ten  to  twelve,  I  am 
alive,  and  this  is  my  night." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  then,"  said  the  little  boy, 
"that  I  came,  for  I  should  otherwise  have  known 
nothing  about  it." 

"  I  will  take  you  about  with  me,"  said  the  Dog, 
"but  first   I  must   have   some  words    with   you. 


The  Iron  Dog.  165 

Never  again  whack  me  so  cruelly  with  that  horrid 
stick." 

"  Dear  Doggie,  I  will  not,"  faltered  Arnold, 
**  I  did  n't  know  you  could  feel,  you  see." 

*'  Do  I  then  look  like  one  who  has  no  feel- 
ing ?  "  said  the  Dog,  angrily. 

"No,"  said  Arnold,  "you  don't  and  I  will 
never  beat  you  again." 

"  Then,"  continued  the  Dog,  "  don't  mortify 
me  by  putting  those  silly  daisy  chains  about  my 
neck.  I  am  ashamed  of  them.  Make  me,  instead, 
a  collar  of  the  beautiful  dog-wood." 

"Oh  no,  that  would  poison  us,"  said  Arnold. 

"What  would  poison  us  ?" 

"Dog- wood." 

"  I  would  like  to  see  the  dog  who  would  poi- 
son me,"  and  he  growled  fiercely. 

"I  mean,"  Arnold  hastened  to  assure  him, 
"the  plant  would  poison  us." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Dog,  mollified.  "  But  come, 
we  are  wasting  time,  and  I  have  a  skunk  to  kill 
to-night.     First,  I  must  have  a  drink  of  water." 

"Are  you  thirsty  ?  "  said  Arnold. 


1 66  The  Iron  Dog. 

"  Indeed,  I  am.  Would  n't  you  be  thirsty,  if 
you  had  had  no  water  for  four  long  weeks  ?  "  And 
Arnold  admitted  that  he  would.  So  the  Dog  gal- 
loped to  a  watering  trough,  stopping  on  the  way 
to  bark  at  the  moon,  and  a  metallic  bark  it  was 
too.  Then  the  drink  began.  "Gurgle,  gurgle" 
went  the  water  through  the  hollow  body.  First 
the  legs  were  filled,  then  the  body,  the  head,  and 
then  the  beautiful  upright  tail. 

"There,"  said  he,  "that  ought  to  last  for  some 
time.  And  now  for  my  skunk,  for  there  is  that 
clock  actually  striking  eleven  already." 

"Oh,  must  you  kill  the  skunk  to-night?"  said 
Arnold,  who  did  not  at  all  like  the  idea. 

"  Certainly,  I  must.  Do  I  look  like  one,  who 
having  once  seen  a  skunk,  would  let  him  live?" 
said  the  Dog,  who  really  seemed  a  boastful  fellow. 

"Indeed  you  don't,"  said  Arnold,  heartily. 

"I  was  almost  upon  him  last  month,"  contin- 
ued his  friend,    "when    he  suddenly  disappeared 
in    a    hole    and    I    had    not    time    to   catch   him 
Come."      So,     swiftly    galloped    the    Dog     over 
stones    and    bushes,   Arnold  with   his   two    arms 


The  Iron  Dog.  167 

about  his  neck  and  wishing  heartily  that  he  was  in 
his  own  little  bed.  But  he  was  ashamed  to  ask  to 
get  off. 

"We  are  getting  near  him,"  panted  the  Dog, 
and  Arnold  was  in  a  minute  fully  persuaded  that 
this  was  so. 

"  Oh,  do  go  back,"  he  begged,  but  his  friend 
refused.  Soon  they  beheld  a  small  black  and 
white  animal  flying  across  the  field. 

*'  Hurrah,  we  're  in  luck,  Arnold.  There  he 
is." 

But  the  iron  Dog  had  forgotten  that  the  jour- 
ney to  the  field  was  long,  and  that  time  had  flown. 
Before  he  could  even  begin  the  chase,  to  the  boy's 
great  relief  the  big  bell  began  to  toll  the  hour  of 
twelve. 

**  Arnold,  Arnold,"  cried  the  poor  animal, 
skunk  and  everything  forgotten,  "  't  is  the  hour. 
I  must  reach  my  pedestal  before  twelve  has  fully 
struck,  or  I  shall  turn  into  iron,  wherever  I  may 
be." 

"  One;'  said  the  bell. 

"  Hurry  then,"  screamed  Arnold,  and  the  Dog 


1 68  The  Iron  Dog. 

began  his  flight.  He  galloped,  he  flew,  over 
stones,  walls,  and  bushes. 

"  Two!'' 

On,  on,  over  the  shallow  brook  that  was  hurry- 
ing to  the  sea,  he  flew  with  one  bound. 

*'  Three!'' 

It  was  for  his  life  he  ran. 

"  You  '11  do  it,  but  faster,  faster,"  screamed 
Arnold,  who  was  as  much  excited  as  he. 

''  Four  !  Five  !  " 

"  On,  on,  dear  Dog." 

''  Six  !  Seven  !" 

Alas,  there  is  still  one  field  more  to  cross. 

''Eight!" 

"  Oh,"  he  panted,  "  I  should  so  hate  to  be 
found  *  off  my  base.' 

''  Nine  !" 

''Shall  I  get  off?"  said  Arnold. 

"  No,  your  weight  is  nothing.  Don't  leave 
me." 

''Ten!" 

"See,"  shrieked  Arnold,  "there  is  your  ped- 
estal— you  '11  reach  it !  " 


The  Iron  Dog.  169 

But  the  Dog's  iron  joints  were  already  stiffen- 
ing, and  creaked  as  he  ran.  He  began  to  grow 
cold,  too,  poor  fellow,  and  his  eyes,  losing  their 
bright  alert  look,  grew  hard  and  dead. 

"  Eleven  I "  and  the  pedestal  was  reached. 

"  Here  we  are,"  and  Arnold  jumping  down, 
pushed  the  Dog  toward  it  1  One  bound  now,  and 
he  was  on  ! ! 

"  Twelve  !  "  said  the  clock. 

*'  Dear,  dear  Doggie,  I  am  so  glad,  so  very, 
very  glad,"  said  Arnold,  hugging  him  and  dancing 
about  him  in  great  delight. 

But  the  poor  creature  could  make  no  answer, 
for  he  was  again  a  stiff,  cold,  iron  Dog.  Arnold 
tried,  but  in  vain,  to  push  back  one  poor  leg 
that  had  not  quite  had  time  to  get  on,  but  stuck 
straight  out  behind.  Then,  tired  out  with  exer- 
tion and  excitement,  and  with  one  arm  about  the 
cold  neck  of  his  friend,  the  little  boy  fell  fast 
asleep.  But  I  am  glad  to  say  that  his  nap  lasted 
only  for  a  moment,  for  fortunately  his  father  and 
mother  were  just  coming  home  as  the  clock  struck 
twelve,  and  looking  across  the  lawn  recognized, 


170 


The  Iron  Dog. 


in  the  bright  moonlight,  the  small  figure  in  the  red 
gown. 

•'  'T  is  Arnold,"  they  cried,  and  stopping  the 
coachman,  ran  across  the  lawn. 

**  Little  boy,  what  does  this  mean  ?  "  they  asked, 
and  Arnold  waking  up,  told  them  the  whole  won- 
derful story. 


MY  FLANNEL  ROOSTER. 

I  AM  a  little  girl  and  my  name  is  Margaret.  I 
have  a  papa  and  a  mamma,  and  I  have  also 
a  great  many  toys,  but  the  toy  I  love  best  is 
my  own  dear  Rooster.  He  is  really  a  beautiful 
Rooster.  He  is  made  of  red  flannel,  and  is 
very  fat  and  has  black  worsted  eyes,  and  two  very 
strong,  stiff  legs  on  which  he  can  stand  alone.  It 
really  seems  as  if  he  could  do  everything  except 
crow,  and  as  he  can't  do  that,  I  do  it  for  him. 
The  other  day  I  caught  a  bad  cold,  and  had  to 
stay  in  the  house.  I  was  playing  with  my  Roos- 
ter and  forgot  my  cold,  and  tried  to  crow,  but  I 
made  such  a  funny,  hoarse  sound  that  it  made  me 
laugh.  The  Rooster  stood  on  the  table  before  me, 
and  I  began  again,  when  what  do  you  think  he 
did?  He  turned  his  head  slowly,  and  looking 
sternly  at  me,  said  : 

«7X 


172  My  Flannel  Rooster. 

**  Do  you  call  that  a  crow,  young  person  ? 
Because  /  call  it  ridiculous,  and  must  beg  you  to 
be  silent,  if  that  is  the  best  you  can  do." 

I  was  so  surprised  that  for  a  minute  I  just 
looked  at  him  and  could  n't  say  one  word,  then  I 
began : 

"  But,  Rooster,  I  did  n't  know  before  that 
roosters  could  talk." 

"Well,"  said  he,  they  can't  usually;  in  fact,  I 
suppose  I  am  the  first  one  who  ever  did  talk,  but 
I  positively  could  not  keep  still  while  you  were 
making  such  an  absurd  noise.  It  is  enough  to 
make  any  rooster  talk  to  hear  you."  Here  he 
yawned.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  Margaret,  but  I  am 
veiy  tired.  I  had  to  get  up  so  early  this  morning — 
you  know  we  roosters  are  obliged  to  be  up  by  day- 
break. I  often  try  to  make  you  get  up  too,"  and 
here  he  looked  so  sternly  at  me  that  I  really  felt 
frightened,  "but"  continued  he,  "it  is  of  no  use 
and  I  always  have  to  comb  my  own  feathers  and 
get  myself  ready." 

"But,  Rooster,"  said  I,  "how  can  you  comb 
your  feathers  ?" 


My  Flannel  Rooster, 


173 


''You  are  a  silly  girl,"  said  he.  *'  Of  course  I 
comb  them  with  my  comb.  But  after  all,  one 
must  not  expect  too  much,"  he  added.  "It  isn't 
your  fault,  Margaret,  that  you  are  only  a  girl — we 
can't  all  be  roosters.  But  now  listen  and  I  will 
teach  you  how  to  crow." 

Then  he  began,  and  except  that  it  sounded 
somewhat  soft  and  flannelly,  he  really  did  crow 
very  well.  When  he 
had  finished,  he  looked 
at  me,  and  actually 
winked  one  of  his 
worsted  eyes  ! 

"  Now  listen  again," 
said  he,  "and  prepare 
this  time  to  hear 
something  really  fine. 
"  Cock — a — doooo —  " 
he  began  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  when  sud- 
denly something  hap- 
pened. I  think  the  people  who  made  him  must 
have  put  too  much  stuffing  in  his  little  throat,  but 


174  My  Flannel  Rooster. 

anyway  **  crrrrrrrack  "  went  a  thread  and  out  came 
the  stuffing  all  along  his  neck,  beginning  at  his 
poor  mouth  !  I  suppose  those  people  thought  he 
was  a  common  toy  rooster,  and  did  not  suspect 
what  a  wonderful  little  fellow  he  really  was.  Not 
expecting  him  to  crow,  they  left  no  room  for  it, 
you  see,  and  then  when  the  crow  came,  why  out 
the  stuffing  had  to  pop  ! 

Well,  I  mended  him,  and  oh,  so  carefully,  but 
not  one  word  has  the  dear  little  fellow  ever  spoken 
to  me  since ! 


THE  STATUE  AND  THE  BIRDS. 

THERE  was  once  a  little  Bird.  Such  a  dear 
little  creature.  I  wish  you  could  have 
known  her,  but  as  you  did  n't  I  suppose  I 
shall  have  to  tell  you  about  her  and  what  hap- 
pened to  her.  She  had  been  spending  the  winter 
in  the  South  and  now  that  the  warm  summer  was 
coming,  had  come  back  to  her  Northern  home. 
She  had  a  mate,  and  the  two  were  now  looking 
for  a  nice,  sheltered  spot.  What  for  ?  Guess. 
Yes,  you  are  right,  it  was  for  their  nest. 

"  Let  us  build  here  in  this  fine,  large  Oak- 
tree,"  said  he. 

But  his  little  wife  said,  "  No,  I  want  a  new 
place.  Birds  always  build  their  nests  in  trees. 
Let  us  choose  a  place  where  no  bird  has  ever  built 
before." 

Near  them  was  a  large  white  Statue  of  a  man, 

135 


1 76        The  Statue  and  the  Birds. 

seated  in  a  big  arm-chair.  One  hand  was  slightly 
raised  and  held  a  manuscript 

"  Here,  here,"  chirped  the  Bird,  "here  we  will 
build,"  and  to  the  Statue  she  flew,  alighting  on  its 
shoulder.  Then  hop,  hop,  down  she  went  and 
darted  in  under  the  manuscript.  And  indeed 
't  was  a  cozy  spot  for  a  house,  for  the  manuscript 
made  a  most  beautiful  roof.  The  big  Oak-tree 
spoke  to  the  Bird,  begging  her  to  come  to  him  and 
build  her  nest. 

*'I  will  shelter  you;  I  will  rock  you  gently  up 
and  down,  back  and  forth,  for  I  love  birds. 
Come,  come  to  me."  And  the  husband-bird 
agreed  with  him  and  would  gladly  have  gone  to 
him,  but  seeing  that  his  wife  had  made  up  her 
mind  against  it,  he  said  nothing  at  all,  being  an 
exceedingly  wise  little  bird. 

Then  they  began  to  build  their  nest,  and  oh, 
how  they  worked,  and  oh,  oh,  how  they  chattered. 
But  in  the  end  they  made  a  beautiful  nest,  lining 
and  interlining  it,  till  really  I  should  have  liked  to 
live  there  myself.  And  one  night,  the  little  wife 
said  to  her  husband  :  *'  The  nest  is  done." 


177 


1 78        The  Statue  and  the  Birds. 

"It  is,"  said  he. 

"  And  it  is  well  done,"  said  she. 

*'It  is,"  said  he. 

"It  is  very  well  done,"  said  she. 

"It  is,"  said  he,  and  then  they  went  to  bed. 
Now  on  the  next  day,  and  for  them,  poor  little 
things,  't  was  to  be  a  sad  day  indeed,  two  men 
came  and  stood  before  the  Statue.  You  can 
imagine  their  feelings  when  one  said : 

"  Yes,  Patrick,  get  your  ladder,  and  give  the 
Statue  a  good  washing,  for  it  really  does  look  very 
dirty,"  and  the  other  man  answered  : 

"  Yis,  sorr,"  and  then  they  both  went  away. 

"Oh,"  screamed  the  birds,  "how  dreadful,  for 
if  he  washes  the  Statue,  we  shall  be  discovered, 
and  our  home  torn  down  and  thrown  away." 

Then  the  little  wife-bird  hopped  on  to  one 
knee  of  the  big  Statue  and  begged  piteously  for 
help,  while  the  little  husband-bird  rushed  to  the 
other  knee  and  did  the  same. 

"Don't  let  them  tear  down  our  beautiful 
home,"  said  one. 


The  Statue  and  the  Birds.         179 

"  Protect  us,  for  we  came  to  you  and  trusted 
you,"  said  the  other. 

"  Our  dear  home,  that  we  worked  so  hard  to 
build,"  said  he. 

"And  that  we  had  just  finished,"  added  she, 
her  voice  breaking. 

Then  they  both  listened  for  the  Statue's  answer. 
But  he  made  no  answer,  and  his  cold  eyes  looked 
at  them  and  did  not  soften.  Then  they  sobbed 
aloud. 

•'  I  think  your  heart  must  be  of  stone,  like  the 
rest  of  you,"  said  the  husband  at  last.  But  the 
wife  said  : 

"  Perhaps,  he  is  not  really  as  cold  as  he  seems. 
He  has  a  kind  face,  and  may  help  us,  after  all," 
and  running  to  him,  she  whispered  in  his  ear  : 
**  Dear  Statue,  when  the  man  comes,  strike  him 
down.  He  is  going  to  wash  and  scrub  you,  and 
I  am  sure  you  will  not  like  that  at  all,  will  you? 
No  one  does.  So  for  your  own  sake,  as  well 
as  ours,  strike,  and  strike  hard."  But  the  Statue 
gave  no  sign  that  he  had  heard. 


i8o        The  Statue  and  the  Birds. 

The  little  Bird  did  not  quite  lose  hope,  how- 
ever. "When  the  time  comes,  I  am  sure  he  will 
not  fail  us,"  she  said. 

Soon  the  man  came,  and  placing  his  ladder 
against  the  Statue,  began  his  work. 

"Strike,  strike,  now  is  your  time,"  screamed 
the  Bird.  But,  alas,  the  Statue  remained  as  before, 
and  no  blow  was  struck  to  defend  the  little  home. 
His  head  was  thoroughly  cleaned,  and  I  really 
think  he  must  have  been,  at  heart,  a  pretty  poor 
sort  of  Statue,  for  he  did  not  even  resent  this, 
but  sat  there  calmly,  while  the  man  soaped  and 
scrubbed  his  eyes,  ears,  nose,  and  mouth.  And 
the  nest  was  at  last  discovered. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  man,  "  a  quare  shpot 

indade  for  to  build  a  nist,"  and  he  threw  it  away. 

The    poor    birds    were    broken-hearted.       But 

their    friend,   the    big    Oak-tree,  comforted    them, 

saying : 

"To-night  you,  with  the  help  of  your  friends, 
can  bring  your  nest  up  here  and  spend  the  summer 
with  me,  after  all." 

So  when  the  darkness  came,  the  birds  called 


The  Statue  and  the  Birds.         i8i 

upon  all  their  friends,  who  gladly  helped  them, 
having  pitied  them,  and  they  really  succeeded  in 
lifting  the  nest  and  fastening  it  securely  on  a 
branch  of  the  Tree.  But  alas,  the  very  next  day 
a  man  came  and  looking  up  at  the  Tree,  said : 

"  That  dead  branch  is  dangerous  ;  it  may  fall  at 
any  time  and  I  will  send  Patrick  to  cut  it  off  this 
morning,"  and  if  you  can  believe  me,  the  branch 
he  pointed  at,  was  the  very  one  on  which  the  birds 
had  for  the  second  time  built  their  nest. 

"  Oh,  Tree,"  they  cried,  "again  our  home  is  to 
be  taken  from  us.     Save  us." 

And  he  answered :  "  Never  fear,  little  Birds,  I 
will  save  your  home,  for  did  I  not  promise  to  pro- 
tect you  from  all  harm?"  Then  the  Tree  called 
loudly  to  his  friend  the  Wind,  who  had  been  play- 
ing quietly  near,  and  said : 

''Blow,  Wind."  And  the  Wind  blew  softly, 
sweetly  through  the  trees,  and  all  the  leaves 
rustled  and  the  branches  rocked  gently.  Then 
Patrick,  the  destroyer,  appeared,  carrying  a  ladder, 
which  he  placed  against  the  branch.  Again  the 
Tree  spoke : 


1 82        The  Statue  and  the  Birds. 

"Wind,  Wind,  do  you  not  hear  me?  Blow 
hard,  blow  quick,  as  you  love  me,  blow!''  The 
last  was  fairly  a  shriek,  which  was,  however,  al- 
most drowned  in  the  sudden  rush  of  the  on-com- 
ing Wind,  which  had  sprung  up  to  answer  the 
Tree's  loud  call.  IVhooooooo  ! !  he  roared,  and  the 
Tree  rocked  back  and  forth  !  Patrick,  who  was  not 
a  very  brave  man,  was  frightened  at  the  sudden 
fierce  wind. 

"Well,  well,"  said  he,  "av  Oi  don't  be  look- 
in'  out,  Oi'll  be  blowed  away  intoirely," — ^and  off 
he  ran,  leaving  the  ladder  still  resting  against  the 
branch.     This  was  just  what  the  Tree  wished. 

"  Blow  harder.  Wind,"  he  shouted ;  so  louder 
yet  roared  the  Wind,  and  back  and  forth  swayed 
the  Tree,  and  up  and  down,  up  and  down  went 
the  branch  on  which  the  ladder  rested,  till,  at  last, 
no  decent  ladder  could  stand  it  any  longer,  so  back 
he  fell  with  a  great  crash.  And  on  what  do  you 
suppose  he  fell  ?  On  the  Statue.  And  the  Tree 
aimed  well,  for  not  only  did  he  hit  the  Statue,  but 
broke  off  his  nose  (and  every  one  knows  that  a 
statue  with  a  broken  nose  can  never  be  the  same 


The  Statue  and  the  Birds.         183 

again).  Not  only  the  nose  was  broken,  but  the 
arm  as  well,  and  the  very  arm  too  that  had  re- 
fused to  strike  a  blow  in  defence  of  a  poor  little 
bird's  home. 

"  Now,  Birds,"  said  the  Tree,  much  pleased  at 
what  had  been  done,  "  call  your  friends  and  move 
your  nest  up  here,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  safe  place 
higher;  so  once  more  the  home  was  moved. 
Later  Patrick  removed  the  dead  branch  and  stared 
in  astonishment  at  the  Statue. 

*'Av  Oi'd  a  shtayed,  Oi 'd  a  looked  loike 
thot,"  said  he. 

The  Statue  was  mended  but  was  never  the  same 
man  again.  And  the  Birds  stayed  with  their  kind 
friend,  the  Tree,  all  through  the  summer,  and  sang 
loudly  to  him,  for  joy,  content,  and  gratitude  were 
in  their  hearts,  and  later  when  some  little  bird- 
children  came,  they  told  them  of  the  Tree's  kind- 
ness, and  the  wee  birdies,  too,  sang  to  him  all 
through  the  long  warm  summer,  and  the  Tree  was 
happy.     And  this  was  the  song  they  sang : 

You  never  should  build  on  a  statue  of  stone 
For  his  heart  is  as  cold  as  he  ! 


184       The  Statue  and  the  Birds. 

The  loveliest  place  is,  I  am  sure  you  will  own, 
Near  the  heart  of  a  big  oak-tree  ! 


Cheep,  cheep,  cheep,  cheep  ! 
The  loveliest  place  that  can  be 
Is — cheep,  cheep,  cheep,  cheep ! 
Near  the  heart  of  a  big  oak-tree. 


THE  TOAD-BOY. 

THERE  was  once  a  Toad  who  lived  near  a 
big  flat  stone  in  the  forest.     As  he  sat  by 
his   hole   one    day,  a   Boy  passed.     The 
Toad  looked  at  him,  and  said : 
"  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  were  a  boy." 
"  Then  w^hy  don't  you  be  one  ?  "  said  a  Snake 
who  was  near. 

"  I  don't  know  how." 
..  "If  you  really  want  to  become  a  boy,  I  will 
tell  you  how  to  do  it,"  and  the  Snake  winked 
his  wicked  eyes  at  the  Toad.  "  All  you  have  to  do 
is  to  hop  ten  times  round  that  flat  stone,  and  then 
without  waiting  a  moment,  hop  quickly  on  the 
stone  itself     Then  you  will  become  a  boy." 

"Thank  you,    kind    Snake,"    said  the    Toad, 
and    he    at    once    began.     "  Hop-i-ty,    hop-i-ty, 

i8j 


1 86  The  Toad-Boy. 

hop,"  round  and  round  the  stone.  When  he  had 
been  round  ten  times  and  was  just  ready  for  the 
final  jump,  the  wicked  Snake,  who  had  been 
watching,  suddenly  seized  him  by  the  leg,  and 
held  him  fast  The  poor  Toad  cried  with  pain 
and  disappointment ;  but  the  next  day  he  came 
again,  having  made  up  his  mind  to  try  once  more. 
So  he  began,  "hop-i-ty,  hop-i-ty,  hop,"  till  he  had 
been  round  ten  times.  It  took  longer  this  time, 
as  his  poor  little  leg  was  lame.  Just  as  he  was 
about  to  make  the  final  jump  on  the  stone,  out 
sprang  the  Snake  again  and  seized  him  by  the 
other  leg. 

"You  are  very  unkind,"  said  the  poor  Toad, 
but  the  Snake  only  laughed  and  wriggled  away. 
The  Toad  sat  there,  crying  bitterly. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  a  friend  who  lived 
near,  and  he  listened  sympathetically  to  the 
story. 

"  Make  one  more  trial,"  he  advised,  "  and  I 
will  help  you." 

So  on  the  following  morning  the  Toad  com- 
ing to  the  flat  stone,  began,  for  the  third  time,  his 


The  Toad-Boy. 


187 


journey.  But  he  was  obliged  to  go  very,  very 
slowly,  "hop-i-ty,  hop-i-ty,  hop,"  for  his  poor  lit- 
tle legs  pained  him  dreadfully. 

At  last,  he  was  ready  for  his  final  jump,  when 
as  before,  out  popped  the  Snake.  But  this  time 
out  popped  somebody  else  at  the  same  time — 
'  t  was  the  friendly  Toad.  And 
what  do  you  think  he  did  ?  He 
gave  one  tremendous  jump,  and 
came  down  directly  on  the  Snake's 
head,  and  as  he  was  very  fat  and 
heavy,  the  Snake  was  unable  to 
move.  Our  Toad,  meanwhile,  had 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  stone, 
and  at  once  began  to  feel  very 
strangely.  First,  his  toad-skin 
began  to  **c-r-r-r-rack,  c-r-r-r- 
rack,"  and  finally  fell  from 
him  altogether  ;  then  he 
grew  taller  and  taller,  and 
then  before  you  could  count  five,  a  doy  stood 
where  a  toad  had  been  before  I  He  stepped  from 
the  stone  and  tried  to  walk,  which  at  first  was  a 


1 88  The  Toad- Boy. 

very  difficult  matter,  as  his  legs  were  weak,  but  as 
he  went  on  they  became  stronger. 

He  walked  on  and  on  through  the  woods, 
picking,  with  his  new  little  hands,  the  beautiful 
flowers,  which  he  had  never  even  noticed  before, 
when  he  was  a  Toad,  but  which  he  now  thought 
very  lovely.  Soon  he  began  to  feel  hungry,  for 
he  did  not  seem  to  care  to  eat  the  fat  flies,  which 
were  flying  lazily  about,  and  which  when  he  was  a 
Toad,  used  to  seem  so  delicious  to  him.  And  not 
only  did  he  long  for  something  to  eat,  but  he  was 
tired  as  well,  ah,  so  tired ;  the  night,  too,  was  com- 
ing on  and  he  wanted  a  soft  bed.  And  more 
than  all,  his  poor  little  heart  began  to  ache — 
ache  for  a  kind,  loving  mamma.  He  had  now 
reached  a  high-road,  and  made  up  his  mind  that 
he  would  walk  down  it,  in  search  of  the  things  he 
needed.  He  soon  came  to  a  house,  and  walking 
timidly  to  the  door,  asked  the  lady  there  if  she 
would  like  to  have  a  little  boy.     She  said  : 

"No,  I  have  already  one  little  boy."  Then  as 
the  light  fell  full  on  his  face,  the  lady  screamed 
and  said :     "  Oh,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 


The  Toad-Boy.  189 

Go  away."  And  he  walked  to  the  next  house. 
There,  too,  he  asked  the  lady  if  she  did  not  want 
a  little  boy. 

"  No,"  said  she,  "I  have  already  two  little  boys 
of  my  own."  Then  as  he  turned  to  leave,  she 
too  saw  his  face,  screamed,  and  shut  the  door 
quickly. 

To  the  third  house  he  went,  and  there  the  lady 
had  three  boys.  But  she  gave  him  some  bread 
and  butter  and  spoke  kindly  to  him.  At  this 
house  the  lamps  were  not  yet  lighted,  so  that  she 
could  not  see  his  face.  He  walked  away  eating 
his  bread  and  butter,  but  with  a  very  heavy  heart. 
Sitting  down  by  the  road-side,  he  cried  bitterly. 

"No  one  wants  me,"  he  sobbed,  "  I  have  no  dear, 
kind  mamma  to  love  and  pet  me,  and  I  am  afraid 
I  shall  have  to  become  a  toad  again."  Just  then 
he  heard  the  sound  of  an  approaching  carriage,  and 
looking  up,  saw  its  lamps,  shining  like  two  great 
eyes  in  the  darkness.  In  the  carriage  sat  a  lady, 
who,  hearing  the  child's  cries,  stopped  and  said  : 

"What  is  the  matter,  little  boy?  Why  don't 
you  go  home  to  your  mamma  ?  " 


igo  The  Toad- Boy. 

**  I  have  no  home  and  I  have  no  mamma,"  he 
said,  sadly,  "  Oh,  dear  Lady,  don't  ^^^  want  a  little 
boy,  and  won't  you  be  my  mamma  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  the  lady,  "I  will  take  you  gladly, 
for  I  have  no  boy  of  my  own.     Come  here,  dear." 

The  poor  little  fellow  walked  to  the  side  of  the 
carriage,  his  beautiful  golden  curls  shining  in  the 
light  of  the  lamps.  But  alas,  the  light  showed 
something  else,  for  when  he  was  near  enough  for 
the  lady  to  see  him  distinctly,  she  too,  like  the 
others,  shrank  away. 

"Poor,  poor  child,"  she  said. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  me  ;  Lady,  why  do 
you  look  so  sadly  at  me?"  said  the  Boy,  his  lip 
quivering. 

"Look,"  said  she,  giving  him  a  small  mirror 
which  hung  at  the  side  of  the  carriage.  In  this  he 
looked,  and  saw — a  boy's  head  with  beautiful 
golden  curls,  but  the /ace,  was  the  horrid  green 
face  of  a  toad !  He  screamed  in  his  fright,  and 
then  he  told  his  story  to  the  lady,  who  was  very 
much  interested. 

" I  advise  you,"  said  she,  "to  go  back  and  find 


The  Toad-Boy.  191 

that  Snake  and  make  him  tell  you  how  to  get  rid 
of  the  toad-face  and  how  to  get  a  boy-face.  If  you 
are  successful,  come  to  my  house,"  and  she 
pointed  to  a  big  house  near,  "and  be  my  own 
dear  boy." 

He  thanked  her  very  much  and  back  he  went 
to  the  woods.  The  night  was  hot  and  he  slept 
comfortably  under  a  big  tree  on  a  soft  pile  of 
leaves.  In  the  early  morning,  he  began  his  search 
for  the  Snake,  but,  although  he  spent  hours  in 
looking  for  him,  he  could  not  find  him,  and  when 
night  came  he  was  much  discouraged. 

"The  Snake  is  gone,  no  one  wants  me,  and  it 
will  be  much  better  for  me  to  become  a  Toad 
again,"  said  he.  So  the  poor  little  fellow  found 
the  flat  stone  and  counting  carefully,  walked  round 
it  backward,  the  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes. 
After  he  had  gone  round  ten  times,  and  was 
about  to  take  the  final  jump  on  the  stone,  out 
popped  that  same  horrid  Snake,  and  tried  to 
catch  him  by  the  heel,  when  the  Boy,  who  although 
he  had  the  face  of  a  toad,  had  the  brains  and 
hands  of  a  boy,  quickly  seized   the  creature,  and 


192  The  Toad-Boy. 

holding  him  so  that  he  could  not  possibly  bite, 
began  to  squeeze  him. 

"  Now,  you  bad  fellow,"  said  he,  "I  shall 
squeeze  you  till  you  tell  me  what  I  want  to 
know." 

The  Snake,  who  was  much  frightened,  said : 
"I  will." 

"Then,"  said  the  Boy,  "when  I  was  a  Toad, 
you  told  me  how  to  become  a  Boy — but  what 
kind^  you  bad,  bad  Snake  ?  A  boy  with  the  horrid, 
green  spotted  face  of  a  toad.  Now,  you  must  tell 
me  how  to  change  this." 

"Go  then,"  gasped  the  Snake,  "to  the  milk- 
weed— ^break  a  piece — rub  the  white  juice  over 
your  face — and  you  will  at  once — have  the  face 
of  a  real  boy." 

So  running  quickly  to  the  weed,  first  putting 
down  the  Snake,  and  telling  him  to  "  crawl  off," 
which  he  did,  hissing  angrily  as  he  went,  the  Boy 
broke  off  a  piece  of  the  milkweed,  and  rubbed  it 
well  into  his  green  face.  Running  now  to  a  pond 
near,  he  looked  down  and  saw  reflected  in  it,  the 
face  of  a  dear  little  boy,  and  oh,  how  happy  the 


The  Toad-Boy. 


193 


sight  made  him.  Then  fast  as  his  legs  could 
carry  him,  he  ran  to  the  lady's  house.  She  was 
delighted  to  see  him  and  kissed  him  on  his  new 
little  face,  saying : 

*'  You  are  now  to  be  my  own  son,  dear,  and  I 
shall  expect  you  to  be  a  very  good  Boy." 

"I  will  try  hard.  Mamma,"  said  he,  "and  I 
don't  think  I  shall  fail,  for  I  know  I  was  a  very 
^pod  Toad." 


THE  SAD  EXPERIENCE  OF  POOR 
POMPOSITY. 

/^^urrrf  Gurrrrr !  Gurrrrrr!  What  am  I 
^^  growling  at  ?  Do  you  see  the  small  white 
dog  in  that  picture  opposite — 't  is  at  him  I  growl, 
and  I  will  tell  you  why.  My  Master  is  an 
artist.  One  day  he  decided  to  paint  me.  Of 
course  you  have  noticed  what  a  fine  dog  I  am? 
Have  I  not  the  brightest  eyes,  the  silkiest  hair, 
the  waggiest  tail  you  ever  saw?  And  can't  you 
almost  see  the  blue  blood  through  my  delicate 
skin?  My  Master  and  Mistress  admire  me  very 
much,  and  he  wished  naturally  to  paint  a  picture 
of  me.  Somewhere  in  the  background  he  also 
put  my  mistress,  an  excellent  foil  to  me.  A  few 
weeks  ago  Master  put  the  finishing  touches  to  the 
picture,  completing  the  very  tip  of  one  of  my 
beautiful  ears.     "There,"  said  he  to  Mistress,  in 

194 


Pomposity.  195 

whose  lap  I  was  sitting,  "that  is  Pomp  himself 
with  his  own  air  of  conscious  superiority  and  dig- 
nity." (My  real  name,  by  the  way,  is  not  Pomp, 
but  Pomposity,  and  to  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  I 
am  not  quite  sure  what  it  means.  I  wish  I  did 
know,  although  of  course,  it  is  something  very 
nice.)  Well,  Mistress  agreed  with  Master  in 
thinking  that  the  picture  could  not  be  better,  and 
I  was  allowed  to  jump  down. 

Now  in  the  studio,  there  is  the  very  softest, 
nicest  chair  you  can  imagine,  but  for  some  strange 
reason  my  Master  does  not  let  me  lie  in  it.  He 
told  me  himself  that  it  was  covered  with  old  tap- 
estry, and  when  I  knew  it  was  after  all,  nothing 
nice  and  new,  I  sat  upon  it  whenever  he  was — 
well,  whenever  I  felt  like  doing  it.  This  night 
after  supper,  I  found,  to  my  delight,  the  studio 
door  a  little  open,  and  creeping  in,  I  went  to  my 
dear  chair,  and  was  soon  happily  dozing.  I  heard 
them  calling  and  calling  for  me,  but  as  I  never 
came  at  their  call  at  any  time,  that  did  not 
trouble  me  and  I  dozed  on.  At  last  they  went 
to  bed  and  the  house  was  still.     The  moon  rose 


1 96  Pomposity. 

and  looked  in  the  window.  Curious  old  thing  she 
is.  She  stared  at  me  till  I  growled,  and  at  last  I 
actually  had  to  turn  my  back  toward  her.  Then 
she  looked  at  everything  in  the  room,  going  into 
all  the  dark  corners  and  examining  everything 
carefully.  At  last  she  shone  full  on  the  picture, 
and  there  she  stayed  and  I  could  not  blame  her 
for  doing  so,  for  it  really  looked  very  lovely. 

While  we  were  both  gazing  at  it,  you  can  im- 
agine my  feelings,  when  the  dog  in  the  picture, 
the  picture  I,  began  to  move!  He  turned  about 
and  faced  me.  I  was  of  course  beside  myself,  and 
running  to  the  picture  said  : 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Coming  out  to  see  you,"  was  the  saucy 
answer. 

"  Never,"  said  I  angrily.  "  Master  has  often 
said  that  there  was  no  dog  like  me,  and  do  you 
think  I  am  going  to  have  a  rival  who  looks  exactly 
like  me,  trotting  about  ?  Go  back.  Don't  you 
know  that  you  are  only  a  painted  dog  ?  You  are 
not  real." 

But  the  miserable  little  wretch  only  looked  at 


Pomposity. 


197 


me  defiantly.  Still  glaring  at  him  and  growling, 
I  backed  slowly  to  my  chair,  but  had  not  reached 
it  when  the  picture-dog,  all  wet  with  paint  as  he 
was,  jumped  from  his  mistress's  lap,  and  out  into 


the  room  !  And  then  the  chase  began.  Round 
he  ran  and  round  I  ran  after  him.  Over  chairs 
and  tables  we  flew  !  '*  Crash;'  and  a  beautiful 
vase  lay  broken  on   the   floor.     ''  Tssst^'    and    a 


1 98  Pomposity. 

piece  of  Persian  embroidery  was  torn  as  we  passed 
through  it.  "  Crash,"  and  another  vase  was 
broken,  and  then — then,  I  caught  him  and  gave 
him  a  terrific  bite  on  his  hind-leg.  But  that  one 
bite  was  enough  for  me.  Ugh  !  Think  of  a  dog 
guilty  of  such  bad  taste  as  that,  pretending  to  be 
a  dog  of  breeding. 

He  had  now  jumped  upon  me  and  gave  me  a 
slight  bite  on  the  nose,  but  just  at  that  moment 
my  picture-mistress  called  him.  He  ran  at  once, 
and  putting  his  two  wet  paws  on  the  beautiful 
gold  frame  pulled  himself  up  and  into  the  picture 
and  jumped  on  his  mistress's  lap.  I  was  of  course 
very  indignant  with  her  for  interfering,  and  run- 
ning to  the  picture,  said  : 

"  Madame,  did  you  ever  hear  of  *  Woman's 
Sphere '  ?  That  frame  is  yours.  Remain  in  it." 
At  these  words,  she  was  of  course  very  much 
ashamed  of  herself,  and  could  not  say  one  word 
in  answer. 

And  now  comes  the  sad,  sad  part  of  my  story. 
When  Master  came  in  the  next  morning,  I  went 
up  to  him  like  an  honest  dog,  and  explained  mat- 


Pomposity.  199 

ters.  But  he  only  gazed  about  the  room,  which, 
indeed,  did  look  dreadful  in  the  bright  light  of  day. 

"Pomp,  Pomp,"  he  said,  in  a  low  blood-cur- 
dling tone,  and  pointing  first  at  the  broken  vases 
and  then  at  the  wet  paint  which  that  miserable 
little  cur  had  scattered  everywhere,  ••  naughty 
dog,"  he  continued,  and  then — then — he  slapped 
me! 

I  ran  wildly  to  the  picture,  barking.  I  thought, 
of  course,  that  as  soon  as  he  saw  those  telltale 
marks  on  the  frame,  Master  would  know  who  the 
real  culprit  was.  But  alas,  what  do  you  think  he 
said? 

"Yes,  I  see,  Pomp,  you  were  barking  at  your 
picture,  thinking  it  was  another  dog,  and  for  that 
opinion  I  am  much  obliged,  I  am  sure.  But  why, 
why  did  you  walk  over  my  palette  before  you 
stepped  on  the  frame?  No,  Pomp,  you  need  not 
shake  your  head.  I  know  you  did  it,  for  see,  here 
are  the  marks  of  your  two  guilty  little  paws  !  " 

I  was  powerless,  after  this,  to  make  him  under- 
stand the  true  facts  of  the  case,  although  I  never 
would  have  believed  that  a  man  as  intelligent  as 


200 


Pomposity. 


Master,  could  be  so  stupid.  Well,  I  was  pun- 
ished. No  walk  did  I  get  that  day,  and  for  many, 
many  days  I  was  forbidden  to  enter  my  dear  stu- 
dio. Master  has  now  varnished  the  picture,  I  am 
glad  to  say,  so  there  is  no  chance  of  the  dog's 
ever  getting  out  again.  But  do  you  wonder  that 
I  growl  at  him,  horrid  beast?  Grrrf  Grrrr I 
Grrrrrrr  III 


RED-BOOTS. 

ONE  morning  not  long  ago,  a  pair  of  little 
red  boots  were  placed  in  the  window 
of  a  large  shoe-shop  in  Boston.  They 
were  very  pretty  and  they  knew  it,  being,  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  somewhat  vain,  although  at 
bottom,  they  were  good  little  soles.  They  were 
placed  in  the  middle  of  the  window  on  a  glass 
shelf,  and  the  shoe-man  very  thoughtfully  put 
them  between  two  mirrors,  so  they  could  con- 
stantly see  themselves.  After  looking  all  about 
them,  they  said  (for  being  laced  boots,  they  had 
tongues)  : 

"We  are  surely  far  more  beautiful  than  any 
shoes  here." 

"  That  may  be,  but  it  is  better  to  be  of  some 
use  in  the  world  than  to  be  merely  beautiful,"  said 


202  Red-Boots. 

a  pair  of  stout  commonsense  walking  boots  from 
the  lower  shelf.  "But,"  he  added  heartily,  "we 
are  very  glad  to  welcome  you  here  in  our  midst; 
little  Red-Boots,"  and  all  the  other  shoes  squeaked 
their  approval.  "Yes,"  continued  he,  "and  not 
only  do  we  bid  you  welcome,  but  I  propose  that 
to-night  we  give  a  ball  in  your  honor,  for  't  is 
seldom  that  such  a  beautiful  pair  of  boots  comes 
to  this  window." 

At  this  the  boots  grew  redder  than  ever  with 
delight,  and  all  in  the  window  expressed  pleasure, 
particularly  the  dancing  shoes,  of  which  there  were 
many. 

"And  where  will  you  get  your  music?"  said 
the  red  boots.     All  laughed  at  this. 

"  Look,"  said  one,  pointing  to  a  broad  band 
of  brass,  which  went  directly  across  the  window, 
bearing  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the  shop,  "  what 
is  that?" 

"A  brass  band,"  said  Red-Boots. 

"  And  what  better  music  could  one  want  than 
that?"  said  the  other. 

After  it  grew  dark,  and  the  shop  was  closed, 


Red-Boots.  203 

and  all  was  quiet  in  the  streets,  the  shoe  ball 
began.  The  brass  band  played,  the  shoe-horns 
blew,  and  all  the  shoes  squeaked.  They  were 
very  graceful,  making  but  few  mistakes,  for  the 
commonsense  pair  led  them.  And  so  they  mer- 
rily danced  till  morning.  And  in  the  morning,  a 
lady  and  her  little  son  entered  the  shop. 

*'  I  want  some  red  laced  boots  for  my  boy," 
said  she.  And  the  man  tried  on  those  in  the  win- 
dow, which  proved  a  perfect  fit. 

"  Now  if  they  match  these  stockings,  I  will  take 
them,"  said  the  lady,  opening  a  parcel  she  carried 
and  displaying  a  pair  of  lovely  red  silk  stockings. 
The  boots  were  a  little  lighter  than  the  stockings, 
but  the  lady,  being  much  pleased  with  them,  took 
them  in  spite  of  this,  they  first  saying  good-bye  to 
all  their  friends  in  the  window. 

Two  days  after,  the  red  boots  and  stockings 
were  worn  for  the  first  time,  and  their  four-year- 
old  master  Robert  was  very  proud  of  them.  The 
stockings  were  not  very  polite  to  the  boots,  saying : 

"You  are  not  nearly  as  pretty  a  color  as  we, 
for  you  are  too  light" 


204  Red-Boots. 

Now  the  boots  had  been  taught  never  to 
answer  rudely  so  they  said  simply  : 

"  Yes,  Stockings,  you  are  a  prettier  color  than 
we."  This  answer  was  so  kind  and  polite,  that 
the  stockings  were  ashamed,  and  ever  after,  were 
very  friendly.  In  a  few  days  the  stockings  were 
washed,  and  when  they  were  sent  upstairs  again, 
they  were  so  changed,  that  the  boots  scarcely 
knew  them.  They  were  now  much  lighter,  and 
they  were  streaked  too,  a  light  and  dark  red. 

''Oh,  dear,"  they  sighed,  "we  were  carelessly 
washed,  and  the  color  ran." 

"Where?"  said  the  boots. 

"Away." 

"And  why  did  n't  you  run  after  it?" 

"We  could  n't." 

"Why?" 

"  Boots,  you  ask  too  many  questions." 

"  Perhaps  I  do,  but  you  must  remember  that  I 
have  two  tongues." 

"That  is  true,  I  had  forgotten,"  said  the  stock- 
ings. 

Several  weeks  passed,  and  the  boots  and  stock- 


Red-Boots.  205 

ings  grew  old  together.  Their  master  Robert  was 
a  good  little  fellow,  and  the  shoes  were  fond  of 
him,  and  went  everywhere  with  him,  and  hear  now 
what  they  did  for  him. 

Robert  was  playing  in  the  yard  before  his 
house  one  day,  when  a  hand-organ  man  appeared. 
He  looked  first  at  the  child,  and  then  at  all  the 
windows  in  the  house,  but  no  one  was  in  sight. 

"  Has  00  dot  a  monkey  wif  00?"  said  Robert. 

"  No,"  said  the  man,  "  but  I  have  three  at 
home,  and  if  you  will  come  with  me,  I  will  show 
them  to  you."  And  Robert,  quite  forgetting  that 
his  mamma  had  told  him  never,  never  to  go  away 
with  any  stranger,  followed  the  man. 

''Stop,  stop,''  said  the  boots,  but  the  little  boy, 
not  understanding  the  shoe-language  only  heard 
"  squeak,  squeak-i-ty  squeak." 

On  and  on  they  went,  till  poor  Robert  began 
to  cry,  but  the  man  seizing  him  by  the  hand,  hur- 
ried him  on  till  they  came  to  his  home — such  a 
wretched  home.  He  gave  Robert  a  crust  of  bread, 
and  taking  off  his  coat  and  hat  and  boots  told  him 
to  lie  down,  and  go  to  sleep,  and  the  poor  child, 


2o6  Red-Boots. 

tired  and  homesick,  did  so,  crying  for  his  papa  and 
mamma.  Meanwhile,  his  father  and  mother,  find- 
ing that  he  was  lost,  went  at  once  to  the  police- 
station. 

"We  have  lost  our  little  boy,"  said  they. 
"  He  had  long  yellow  curls  ;  and  he  wore  a  black 
hat  and  coat,  and  red  boots  and  stockings." 

"I  am  glad  he  did,"  said  the  policeman,  "for 
as  most  boys  wear  black  ones,  somebody  will  be 
sure  to  have  noticed  his  red  ones,  and  we  can 
more  easily  trace  him." 

And  so  it  proved.  For  many  people  had  seen 
a  hand-organ  man,  and  with  him  a  crying  boy, 
and  they  had  all  noticed  the  red  boots.  At  last 
they  traced  him  to  the  very  house,  and  knocked  at 
the  door.  But  the  hand-organ  man  suspected  who 
it  was,  and  taking  up  the  sleeping  child,  put  him 
in  another  room  and  locked  the  door.  Then 
opening  his  house-door,  he  asked  the  policeman 
and  the  lady  and  gentleman  what  they  wanted. 

"The  child  you  stole,"  said  the  policeman, 
sternly,  and  the  wicked  man  said  he  knew  nothing 
about   "any  stolen   child."     Just   then  Robert's 


Red-Boots.  207 

mamma,  who  had  been  looking  all  about  the 
room  hoping  to  find  her  darling,  suddenly  gave  a 
cry  of  delight.  In  the  corner  she  had  seen — what ! 
Two  little  red  boots.  And  of  course  she  knew 
then  that  her  boy  was  not  far  away.  The  police- 
man now  made  the  bad  man  unlock  the  other 
door,  and  Robert  was  soon  in  his  mother's  arms. 

••  Good  little  Red-Boots,  dear  little  Red-Boots," 
said  she,  "but  for  you,  I  might  never  have  found 
my  darling  boy.  I  shall  not  throw  you  away,  but 
will  keep  you  forever." 

And  although  many  years  have  passed  since 
then,  and  Robert  is  now  a  very  big  boy,  there  is 
upstairs  a  small  box  and  in  it  are  two  tiny  worn 
red  boots„  Ask  Robert  to  show  them  to  yoii 
when  you  see  him. 


SAVED. 


DONALD  was  sitting  in  the  big  chintz-covered 
chair  in  the  drawing-room,  staring  at  his 
favorite  picture — and   indeed  it   was  well 
worth  looking  at.     It  was  a  sea-scene,  a  picture  of 
a  dreadful  storm.     In  fact,  it  was  wonderful  that 


So8 


Saved.  209 

the  slender  gilt  frame  could  hold  so  great  a  storm 
as  was  evidently  going  on  there.  The  waves  were 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  high,  while  the  sky  above 
them  was  black  and  angry.  At  the  left  of  the 
picture  stood  a  group  of  tall  jagged  rocks,  while 
very  near,  and  aiming  directly  for  them,  was  a  poor 
battered,  storm-tossed  ship.  Its  mast  was  broken, 
and  the  torn  sail  dragged  over  the  side.  The  rud- 
der, too,  must  have  been  useless,  for  the  boat 
seemed  to  pay  no  attention  to  it,  but  obeyed  only 
the  fierce  wind,  which  was  blowing  it  directly 
toward  the  rocks  and  destruction  ! 

While  Donald  was  looking  at  the  boat,  he  sud- 
denly sprang  to  his  feet  in  amazement.  It  seemed 
incredible — he  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears,  but 
from  that  boat  had  come  the  unmistakable  sound, 
faint  but  yet  distinct,  of  someone  shouting.  (Don- 
ald told  me  this  himself,  so  I  am  sure  there  could 
have  been  no  mistake.)  Going  nearer  the  picture 
he  could  see  that  the  waves  were  moving,  actually 
moving,  while  from  the  boat,  and  quite  distinctly 
now,  came  the  cry,  "Boy  ahoy."  Putting  both 
hands  to  his  mouth,  as  his  father  had  taught  him 


2IO  Saved. 

to  do  when  at  sea,  he  answered :  **  Ship  ahoy ! 
What  is  the  matter?" 

"Help  us  I "  was  the  answer.  "Our  captain 
is  dead.  Our  boat  is  drifting  on  these  rocks,  and 
we  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"  Have  you  an  anchor?"  shouted  Donald. 

"Yes,  two." 

"Then,  throw  them  both  out,"  roared  the  boy. 
This  was  evidently  done.  The  rattling  of  the 
anchor-chains  could  be  distinctly  heard  in  the 
quiet  room,  even  above  the  roaring  of  the  storm. 
Then  Donald  waited  in  breathless  suspense,  for 
although  he  knew,  of  course,  that  anchors  in  real 
seas  did  hold  real  ships,  he  could  not  know  how 
they  might  act  in  a  picture-sea,  and  holding  a 
picture-boat.  But  anchors  are  anchors,  after  all, 
wherever  they  be  found.  These  held,  and  to  Don- 
ald's great  delight  and  relief  the  boat  was  saved! 

When  Mamma  heard  the  story  later,  she 
smiled,  and  in  fact,  so  did  I,  when  he  told  me 
about  it  in  the  afternoon.  (I  am  Donald's  aunt, 
and  we  are  great  chums.)  I  thought,  at  first,  as 
his  mother  did,  that  he  must  have  been  dreaming, 


Saved. 


21  t 


but  when  he  took  me  into  the  drawing-room,  and 
showed  me  the  boat,  and  I  found  that  in  spite  of 
the  dreadful  wind  which  ought  to  have  dashed  it 
on  the  rocks  long  before,  it  had  not  moved  one 
inch  since  morning,  why  then  I  thought  to  myself^ 
something  must  have  held  that  boat,  and  if  it 
wasn't  an  anchor,  then  what  was  it?  What  do 
you  think  ? 


THE  DISOBEDIENT  ISLAND. 


THERE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  long,  gray 
Island,  lying  not  far  from  the  mainland. 
On  him  there  were  trees  and  rocks,  but  no 
houses.  He  had  a  son — the  dearest  wee  Island 
you  ever  saw.  This  little  fellow  was  nestled  up 
very  close  by  his  father's  side,  in  the  water,  but, 
although  he  did  not  wear  rubber  shoes,  he  did  not 
mind  being  wet  at  all,  nor  did  he  ever  catch  cold. 
On  this  small  Island  grew  a  beautiful  oak-tree, 
which  spread  its  branches  protectingly,  completely 
shading  him  from  the  hot  sun.  There  were  also 
many  lovely  flowers  there,  and  altogether  it  was 
a  very  pretty  place.    Just  opposite  the  Island,  on 


912 


The  Disobedient  Island.  213 

the  mainland,  was  a  large  red  house,  and  in  it 
lived  a  papa,  a  mamma,  and  three  children,  Sam, 
Bob,  and  their  young  sister  Geraldine.  They 
owned  a  boat  which  was  very  broad  and  safe,  and 
they  had  all  been  taught  to  row  and  swim.  A 
pleasant  day  seldom  came,  that  the  children  did 
not  go  over  to  "their  island  "  as  they  called  it. 

One  day  Sam  said  to  his  father :  "  I  wish  there 
were  a  bridge  leading  from  the  big  Island  to  the 
little  one,  and  then  we  could  eat  our  luncheon 
under  the  shade  of  that  big  tree." 

"Sam,  that  is  a  very  good  idea,"  said  his 
father,  "  I  must  build  one  for  you,"  and  the  chil- 
dren all  shouted  in  their  delight. 

"  How  lovely  it  will  be." 

"Yes,"  said  the  big  Island,  "I,  too,  shall  like 
that  very  much,  for  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  connected 
with  my  little  son." 

But  although  he  spoke  in  a  loud  voice,  no  one 
paid  the  slightest  attention  to  him.  The  next  time 
Mr.  Arnold  came  to  the  Island  he  brought  with 
him  on  the  boat,  boards  and  nails,  and  before  long, 
with  the  boy's  help,  a  bridge  was  built.     There 


214         The  Disobedient  Island. 

was  a  railing  on  one  side,  and  it  was  strong,  safe, 
and  very  pretty. 

"To-morrow,  we  will  paint  it,"  said  Mr.  Ar- 
nold, so  the  next  day  they  brought  some  bright 
red  paint,  and  when  the  bridge  was  painted  with 
this,  it  was  really  lovely.  The  children  danced 
with  delight,  and  their  big,  black  dog,  "  Diso- 
bedience," was  so  much  pleased,  that  he  walked 
directly  on  the  wet  red  bridge,  barking  loudly  all 
the  time ;  then  lay  down,  and  rolled  over  and  over ! 
They  called  him  again  and  again  to  "  Come  back, 
come  back,"  but  he  would  not  come,  and  really, 
with  such  a  name,  I  don't  think  he  was  very  much 
to  blame.  "Give  a  dog  a  bad  name,  and,"  as 
everyone  knows,  "  it  will  stick  to  him."  But  it  did 
not  stick  to  him,  nearly  as  hard  as  the  paint  did. 
You  never  saw  such  an  extraordinary  sight  as 
that  red-black  dog.  He  was  very  red,  and  he 
knew  it,  and  tried  to  hide  under  a  bush,  but  there 
was  no  hope  for  him,  so  running  to  the  boat  he 
curled  himself  down  in  the  bottom  and  soon  fell 
fast  asleep.  When  they  returned  later,  to  the 
mainland,  poor   Disobedience  was  washed  again 


The  Disobedient  Island.  215 

and  again,  but  in  vain,  for  from  each  bath  he 
emerged  a  bright  red  dog.  The  man  was  at 
last  obliged  to  shave  him,  and  to  this  he  submit- 
ted far  less  willingly  than  most  young  men  of 
his  age. 

And  now,  the  children  took  their  luncheon  on 
the  small  Island  almost  every  day.  They  called 
it  "their  dining-room,"  and  a  very  good  one  it 
made.  They  brought  from  the  big  Island  a  flat 
stone  for  a  table,  and  used  the  boat-cushions  to 
sit  on. 

One  day,  Bob  brought  with  him  a  very  inter- 
esting book,  called  A  Boys  Adventures  on  Sea 
and  Land,  which  he  read  aloud  to  the  others.  He 
thought  he  had  only  two  listeners,  Sam  and  Ger- 
aldine,  but  there  was  a  third,  who  was  the  most 
interested  of  all — it  was  the  little  Island.  Not  a 
word  did  he  lose,  and  after  the  children  went 
home,  he  still  kept  thinking  and  thinking  about 
the  wonderful  adventures  of  that  boy  in  the  book. 
Later  in  the  evening  he  said  to  his  father  : 

"  Papa,  may  I  not  take  a  walk  ?  I  should  so 
much  like  to  see  what  is  on  your  other  side." 


2i6         The  Disobedient  Island. 

"There  is  nothing  there,"  said  his  father, 
"  but  water,  water,  water.  You  must  remain 
where  you  are,  it  is  not  safe  for  you  to  move,  my 
son." 

Nothing  more  was  said,  and  the  Papa-Island 
was  soon  asleep.  But  the  little  Island  was  not 
asleep  but  very  wide  awake.  When  he  found 
that  his  father  slept,  he  began  very  cautiously  to 
move.  First  he  stretched  himself,  then  raised 
himself  slowly,  s-1-o-w-l-y,  when  suddenly,  **  c-r- 
r-r-r-rack  "  went  the  bridge,  broken  right  in  the 
middle  I  This  bridge  the  Island  had  quite  forgot- 
ten, and  he  was  so  frightened,  that  he  sat  down 
again,  splash,  into  the  water.  Then  he  listened 
to  see  if  he  had  waked  up  his  father,  but  no,  the 
old  fellow  was  sleeping  soundly.  Islands,  when 
once  they  get  aleep,  are  very  sound  sleepers. 
After  a  few  moments  the  naughty  little  son  got  up 
again  very,  very  quietly,  and  this  time  made  no 
noise  but  stepped  farther  and  farther  away  from 
his  home.  At  first  he  was  much  pleased,  as  the 
Moon  was  shining  brightly,  and  the  water  was  not 
deep.     But  the  Moon,  as  it  happened,  was  a  great 


The  Disobedient  Island.  217 

friend  of  the  Papa-Island,  on  whom  she  had  shone 
for  many  years. 

"Go  back,"  she  said  to  the  naughty  Island. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he,  "I  am  going  to  see  the 
world." 

The  Moon,  much  grieved,  hid  her  face  in  her 
handkerchief  And  what  do  you  think  her  hand- 
kerchief was  ?  A  soft  white  cloud.  Of  course, 
when  she  was  crying  she  could  not  shine,  and  so 
the  small  Island  found  himself  in  darkness.  But 
on  he  went,  pretending  that  he  liked  it. 

Suddenly — ah,  it  is  so  sad,  I  scarcely  like  to 
tell  you  about  it — he  stepped  into  a  very  deep 
hole,  and  went  down,  down,  down  out  of  sight, 
till  only  the  top  of  the  beautiful  tree  could  be  seen 
above  the  water !  He  called  loudly,  piteously  to 
the  Moon,  who  was  now  again  looking  at  him. 
But  she  was  powerless  to  help.  **  Oh,  Papa, 
Papa,"  he  screamed,  and  this  time  the  big  Island, 
hearing  the  splash  and  the  cry,  did  wake  up,  and 
finding  his  son  gone,  knew  in  a  moment  what  had 
happened.  And  over  at  the  big  house,  on  the 
mainland,  someone  else  must  have  heard  the  cry, 


2i8  The  Disobedient  Island. 

perhaps  in  her  dreams,  for  little  Geraldine  sud- 
denly started  up,  and  rushing  to  the  window, 
looked  out  into  the  moonlit  night.  She  saw  first 
the  big  Island,  then  looking  at  the  place  where 
the  small  Island  ought  to  have  been,  found  it  was 
gone  !  Being  only  a  very  little  girl,  she  was  so 
much  frightened  that  she  ran  quickly  back  to  bed 
again,  and  fell  fast  asleep. 

Meantime,  the  poor  Papa-Island  was  in  great 
distress,  for  of  course,  he  could  not  go  himself  to 
pull  out  his  son,  and  whom  could  he  send? 

"Will  no  one  help  me?"  he  said,  and  sud- 
denly a  small  voice  answered  : 

- 1  will." 

Now,  a  family  of  birds  lived  at  the  end  of 
the  Island  and  he  had  given  them  a  pleasant 
home,  and  had  been  kind  to  them  in  many  ways, 
and  they  were  fond  of  him.  It  was  one  of  these 
who  had  spoken. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  cannot  help  me,  little  bird," 
he  said,  sadly.  "  I  need  someone  who  is  very 
strong,  and  who  can  pull  my  naughty  son  out  of 
the  water,  and  put  him  back  by  my  side.     He  has 


The  Disobedient  Island.         219 

run  away  from  me,  and  there  you  see  all  that  is 
left  of  him."  The  bird  looked,  and  saw  only  the 
very  top  of  the  oak-tree,  waving  mournfully  to 
and  fro. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "that  is,  of  course,  a  difficult 
task,  but  I  think,  nevertheless,  that  I  can  help  you, 
for  I  am  a  King-bird,  and  one  is  not  a  king  for 
nothing.  You  have  been  kind  to  me  and  my 
family,  and  in  return,  I  am  glad  to  do  this  for 
you." 

"But  how?" 

"  Have  patience,  and  you  will  see,"  was  the 
answer. 

The  King-bird  now  flew  to  the  highest  point 
on  the  Island,  and  gave  a  very  loud  piercing 
whistle,  which  was  immediately  answered  from 
the  mainland,  and  repeated  over  and  over  again, 
from  the  right,  from  the  left,  and  then  sounding 
fainter  and  fainter  as  it  came  from  a  distance. 

"  Now,"  said  the  King-bird,  "  my  subjects  all 
know  that  I  desire  their  presence  here,  at  once." 

He  had  scarcely  finished  speaking  when  over- 
head a  faint  "whirring"  noise  was  heard,  which 


220         The  Disobedient  Island. 

grew  louder  and  louder  till  it  sounded  like  the 
"roar  of  many  waters,"  and  soon  tens,  hundreds, 
thousands  of  birds  of  all  kinds  appeared,  and  bow- 
ing low  to  the  King-bird,  said  : 

"What  does  your  Majesty  wish  us  to  do?** 

"Something  that  will  be  very  difficult,  I  fear," 
said  he,  "but  something  which  I  feel  sure,  will  be 
done  by  you,  my  loyal  subjects,  if  anyone  on  earth 
or  in  air  can  do  it." 

At  this  the  birds  all  cheered,  and  I  wish  you 
could  have  heard  that  liquid,  musical  cheer,  for  the 
lark  led  it. 

"Now,"  continued  his  Majesty,  "go  at  once, 
and  lift  that  small  Island,  which  you  see  out  there, 
and  put  it  back  here,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  place 
where  it  had  been. 

"  We  will,  we  will,"  shouted  all  the  birds, 
courageously,  and  off  they  flew.  Can  you  believe 
me  when  I  tell  you  that  they  actually  did  do  this 
wonderful  thing?  They  pulled  that  small  Island 
up  by  means  of  the  oak  tree  (which  you  remember 
was  partly  above  water)  each  one  taking  a  twig, 
and    all    pulling    together,    and    as  there    were 


The  Disobedient  Island.          221 

many  wonderfully  strong  birds,  eagles  and  others, 
among  them,  they  succeeded  in  doing  it,  and 
placed  the  wet,  shivering  little  Island  by  his 
father's  side,  once  more  ! 

'*  Thank  you,  my  subjects,  I  am  indeed  proud 
of  you,"  said  the  King-bird,  while  the  big  and 
little  Island  thanked  the  birds  over  and  over  again, 
till  they  were  hoarse.  And  the  sun,  raising  his 
big  round,  red  face  above  the  water,  shone  upon 
them  all  with  warm  approval. 

When  Geraldine  got  up  the  next  morning,  she 
ran  to  the  window,  and  there  was  the  wee  Island, 
just  where  he  had  always  been.  So  she  said 
nothing  about  what  she  had  seen  the  night  before, 
because  she  thought  she  must  have  been  dreaming. 
After  breakfast,  the  children  said  to  their  father : 

"  May  we  not  go  to  the  Island  to-day,  and 
take  luncheon  in  our  "  dining-room  "  ? 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Arnold,  •*  and  Mamma  and  I 
will  go,  too."  So  off  they  all  went,  Disobedience 
with  them. 

When  they  got  there,  their  father  said  :  **  I  will 
take  the  lunch-basket  to  the  dining-room."     When 


22  2  The  Disobedient  Island. 

he  came  to  the  bridge,  he  found  only  half  a 
bridge,  the  other  half  being  broken  off,  and  having 
fallen  partly  into  the  water.  The  small  Island, 
too,  was  wet,  very  wet,  all  the  leaves  of  the  oak 
tree  fairly  dripping  with  water. 

**Well,"  said  Mr.  Arnold,  "how  did  this  hap- 
pen ?  A  big  wave  must  have  washed  completely 
over  the  little  Island,  breaking  the  bridge  on  its 
way,  and  yet  I  really  don't  see  how  it  could  have 
done  so." 

The  poor  wee  Island  hung  his  head  in  shame. 
The  children  felt  badly  to  think  that  their  pretty 
bridge  was  broken,  although  there  was  one  who 
was  much  delighted  at  the  accident,  and  that  was 
Disobedience.  He  laughed  till  his  fat  sides  ached, 
and  I  really  don't  think  he  was  very  much  to 
blame,  for  the  bridge  had  certainly  not  treated  him 
well.  Geraldine  was  the  only  one  who  suspected 
what  had  really  happened,  and  she  told  her  father, 
what  she  had  seen  in  the  night.  He  laughed 
heartily  and  said  :  '*  That  was  only  a  dream,  dear 
little  girl." 

But  the  two  Islands,  Geraldine,  you  and  I 
know  that  it  was  not  a.  dream. 


THE  BOLD  BAD  BICYCLE. 

THERE  was  once  a  Bicycle,  who  lived  in  a 
city,  in  a  big  shop  with  hundreds  of  other 
bicycles.  He  was  a  happy-hearted  little 
fellow,  although,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  somewhat 
vain  of  his  fine  appearance.  He  had  gorgeous 
silver  mountings,  the  best  of  rubber  tires,  and  a 
sweet-toned  bell,  to  warn  people  that  he  was  com- 
ing. He  was  just  finished  at  the  time  I  write,  and 
had  been  sent  to  the  shop  from  the  manufactory 
only  the  night  before.  The  workmen  knew  when 
they  made  him,  that  he  was  a  very  fine  machine, 
light,  strong,  and  perfectly  made  ift  every  re- 
spect, and  as  he  stood  there  finished  before  them, 
bright  and  shining,  they  were  proud  of  him.  But 
just  how  bright  he  really  was,  they  never  sus- 
pected,  for  he  had  not  only  a  strong  will  of  his 

Mi 


224  The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle. 

own,  but  could  also  reason  and  think,  all  of  which 
was  quite  unusual  in  a  bicycle. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  big  shop,  he  was 
delighted,  for  the  others  seemed  so  glad  to  see 
him,  and  welcomed  him  cordially.  They  told 
him  about  the  different  machines,  and  that,  in  all 
probability  he  would  soon  be  sold,  and  taken 
by  his  master  to  see  the  big  world.  They  gave 
him  much  good  advice,  telling  him  to  always 
obey  and  try  to  be  good,  although  they  confessed 
that  they,  take  them  as  a  whole,  were  rather  a 
"fast"  lot. 

Well,  that  very  morning,  our  Bicycle  was 
taken  out  to  be  looked  at  by  a  gentleman,  who 
wanted  to  buy  one  for  his  son.  The  proprietor 
pointed  out  all  his  good  points,  till  the  little  fellow 
was  so  delighted  with  himself  that  he  could  not 
stand  alone,  but  leaned  against  the  wall  for  sup- 
port.    The  gentleman  finally  said  : 

"  I  am  much  pleased  with  this  bicycle.  My 
son  shall  come  next  week  and  look  at  it,  and  if  he 
likes  it,  I  will  buy  it." 

Now  all  this  day,  and  through  the  night,  the 


The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle.  225 

Bicycle  was  thinking,  **  I  shall  see  the  world ;  but, 
oh,  how  can  I  wait  till  next  week  ?  That  man  said 
I  was  beautiful, — well,  he  is  quite  right,  I  am.  I 
heard  him  say,  too,  that  the  lighter  the  machine, 
the  greater  the  speed.  Dear  me,  if  that  is  so,  how 
awfully  fast  I  could  go  if  I  had  no  rider ^  Sud- 
denly a  magnificent  thought  came  to  him,  a 
thought  that  made  his  nickel-plated  heart,  cold 
though  it  was,  beat  fast  He  knew  that  at  five 
o'clock  every  morning  the  janitor  opened  the  big 
door,  while  he  swept  out  the  place. 

Now,  what  do  you  suppose  this  audacious 
bicycle  planned  to  do  ?  Simply  this.  When  the 
man  went  to  the  back  part  of  the  shop  to  get  his 
broom,  he  would  slip  off  quietly,  and  see  the 
world,  all  alone.  "  No  one  shall  pull  my  ears  and 
tell  me  to  *go  this  way,  and  go  that  way.'  No,  I 
shall  go  whichever  way  pleases  me."  You  can 
imagine,  that  once  having  made  up  his  mind  to  do 
this  thing,  he  slept  but  little.  He  heard  the  big 
clock  at  the  corner  strike  '^  Ihree^  then  ''four,'' 
then  ''  fiv^y  The  hour  had  come,  and  soon  foot- 
steps were  heard,  the  big  door  was  unlocked,  and 


2  26  The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle. 

hooked  back  as  usual,  and  the  man  went  off  for 
his  broom.  Now  was  the  Bicycle's  chance,  and 
silently,  swiftly,  he  glided  away. 

Out  of  the  door,  across  the  sidewalk  and  with 
a  big  bu7np  down  into  the  street,  for  being  a  bright 
little  fellow,  he  knew,  although  no  one  had  told 
him,  that  the  sidewalk  was  not  the  proper  place  for 
a  bicycle.  Oh,  how  happy  he  was,  how  free  he  felt. 
The  street  was  quite  deserted  at  this  early  hour, 
and  so  no  one  was  astonished  at  seeing  a  bicycle 
whizzing  along  faster  than  any  bicycle  had  ever 
been  known  to  go  before,  turning  to  the  right  or 
left,  as  the  fancy  struck  him,  and  with  no  rider ! 
Soon  he  met  a  dog,  a  large  St  Bernard,  stout 
and  dignified,  who  had  lived  a  long  life,  and  knew 
much  more  than  he  ever  told.  He  glanced  at  the 
Bicycle,  and  then — -then — his  two  eyes  grew  as  big 
as  saucers  and  with  one  agonized  howl  of  terror, 
he  was  off.  The  Bicycle  laughed  and  hurried  on. 
His  next  encounter  was  with  a  sad-looking  horse 
drawing  a  milk-wagon,  who  gave  one  look  at  him, 
and  then  like  the  dog,  ran  away,  scattering  the 
milk-cans  over  the  road  as  he  went.     His  master, 


The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle.  227 

when  he  came  out  of  the  house,  stared  in  aston- 
ishment to  find  him  gone. 

"  I  really  did  n't  know  the  fellow  could  run," 
he  said,  but  then  he  had  n't  seen  the  riderless 
bicycle. 

On  and  on  sped  the  machine.  He  now  kept 
meeting  people,  and  they  acted  very  much  as  the 
horse  and  dog  had  done,  being  greatly  alarmed 
at  the  strange  sight.  The  Bicycle  finding  that  no 
one  could  possibly  catch  him,  had  a  fine  time.  He 
would  go  up  slowly  till  he  was  quite  near  some- 
body, and  then,  just  as  he  put  out  his  hand  to 
catch  him,  whizz,  he  was  a  block  away,  leaving 
the  man  behind  gasping  with  surprise.  People 
shouted,  horses  shied,  dogs  barked,  and  the  police 
were  at  their  wit's  end.  Accidents  were  reported 
in  all  parts  of  the  city,  from  runaway  horses  who 
had  caught  sight  of  our  friend. 

"Arrest  that  bicycle,"  demanded  the  people; 
'•it  is  dangerous." 

"Willingly,"  said  the  police,  "but  how?  No 
train,  horse,  nor  bicycle  can  catch  it." 

But  fortunately  for  the  city,  the  Bicycle,  after 


2  28  The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle. 

a  few  hours  of  sport,  grew  tired  of  the  noise 
and  confusion,  and  went  out  into  the  country. 
As  he  went  at  the  rate  of  five  miles  a  minute,  he 
found  himself  in  about  five  minutes  twenty-five 
miles  away  on  a  lovely  wooded  country  road. 
There  he  stopped  to  rest,  for  he  was  tired,  "rub- 
ber tires,"  you  know.  Oh,  what  a  glorious  morn- 
ing he  had  spent.  He  had  laughed  so  much  to 
see  everybody  flying  from  him,  and  then,  when 
they  had  tried  to  catch  him,  that  surely  was  fun- 
nier than  all. 

While  he  was  laughing  again  at  the  remem- 
brance, two  boys  came  up  to  him. 

**  I  wonder  who  that  stunning  machine  belongs 
to,"  said  one. 

'*  To  somebody  who  is  very  careless  to  leave  i 
here,"  said  the  other. 

"  Let  's  try  it,  just  for  a  few  feet,"  and  the  first 
speaker  raised  one  leg  to  mount,  when,  whizz,  all 
they  saw  of  the  Bicycle  was  a  small  black  speck 
on  a  hill  about  two  miles  off  I  The  boys  wen 
badly  frightened,  I  assure  you. 

At   last,  the  Bicycle    felt  that  it  was  time  foi 


The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle.  229 

him  to  go  home.  Every  bicycle,  like  every  dog, 
must  have  his  day,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  had 
his ;  but  now,  he  longed  to  tell  them  all  at  home 
about  his    travels.      "  I  must   wait   till    darkness 


comes,"  he  said,  "so  that  I  may  get  into  the  shop 
without  being  seen."  So  when  night  came,  back 
he  crept,  meeting  scarcely  anyone  on  the  way. 
When  he  reached  the  shop,  he  found,  alas,  that  it 
was  closed  for  the  night.  This  possibility  he  had 
quite  forgotten.     Creeping  up  in  the  doorway,  he 


230  The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle. 

leaned  sadly  against  the  wall,  when  suddenly  he 
caught  sight  of  a  notice  nailed  against  the  door, 
and  looking  at  it  more  closely  read :  **  Stolen 
from  this  shop,"  and  then  followed  a  description 
of  him.  He  laughed  so  heartily  at  this,  that  he 
almost  fell  down.  Then  he  waited  and  waited, 
till  at  last  the  big  clock  at  the  corner  struck 
''five,''  when  he  crept  silently  round  in  the  half 
darkness  and  hid  himself  in  the  side  doorway  till 
he  heard  the  man  unlocking  the  door.  Then, 
when  he  went  for  his  broom,  back  crept  the 
Bicycle  and  took  his  old  place  among  the  others, 
who  welcomed  him  with  shouts  of  glee.  He  told 
them  of  his  adventures,  and  oh,  how  they  laughed. 

**  The  proprietor  was  very  angry  when  he  found 
that  you  were  gone,"  they  said.  "  He  thought, 
of  course,  someone  must  have  stolen  you,  and  oh, 
how  surprised  he  will  be  when  he  comes  in  this 
morning,  and  finds  you  here." 

And  indeed  he  was.  He  came  in  soon  after 
with  a  friend,  and  the  bicycles  heard  him  say : 

"Yes,  't  was  a  very  bold  thing  to  do.  The 
thief  must  have  walked  in  through  the  door  and 


The  Bold  Bad  Bicycle.  231 

taken  the  bicycle.  There  was  where  it  stood 
[pointing],  and  what  ?  Do  my  eyes  deceive  me  ? 
There  is  the  bicycle,  now ! !  Look,  look,"  he 
said,  very  much  excited,  "  the  thief  has  actually 
brought  back  the  machine.  It  is  covered  with 
dust,  and  whoever  stole  it  must  have  ridden  a 
long  distance." 

"  Indeed  he  did,"  shouted  all  the  bicycles, 
laughing  heartily,  but  the  proprietor  did  not  notice 
them. 

''  I  will  find  the  thief  who  took  that  bicycle," 
said  he,  "if  it  takes  me  years  to  do  it";  but 
although  he  made  every  effort,  he  never  did  find 
him,  for  beside  the  bicycles,  you  and  I  are  the 
only  ones  who  know  who  the  real  thief  was,  and 
we  will  never  tell,  will  we  ? 


THE  LADY  OF  SNOW. 

ONE  day,  the  poor  bare,  brown  earth  awoke 
and  looked  sadly  up  into  the  sky.  The 
green  grass,  the  pretty,  bright  flowers, 
and  tender  leaves  had  left  him  long  ago,  and  he 
knew  he  was  no  longer  beautiful.  The  sky  saw 
this,  and  moved  by  pity,  threw  over  him  a  soft, 
white  mantle.  First  she  sent  down  a  few  feathery 
stars.  Then,  well  pleased  at  the  effect,  more  and 
more,  and  faster  and  faster  they  came,  till  the 
trees,  the  bare  fields,  and  houses  were  hidden  by 
the  pure,  white  covering,  till  surely  no  one  could 
have  suspected  the  hard  ugliness  beneath.  At 
last,  when  all  was  done,  the  clouds  rested,  and 
the  big  sun  shone  out,  glad  that  he  had  something 
so  beautiful  to  look  upon. 

In  one  of  the  houses,  a  little  girl  stood  at  the 

ass 


The  Lady  of  Snow. 


233 


window.  "Mamma,  Mamma,"  she  called,  "may 
I  not  go  out  into  the  beautiful  new  world?"  and 
Mamma  consenting,  out  she  went,  first  putting  on 
her  thick  coat  and  hood  and  big  rubber  boots. 

"Now,"  said  Eleanor,  "I  will  make  a  snow- 
man. No,  I  don't  think  I  will  make  a  snow-man. 
Every  one  does  that.     I  will  make  a  snow-woman^ 


So  the  little  maid  rolled  up  the  soft,  damp 
snow  into  a  huge  ball,  gently  sloping  it  at  the 
back  for  the  graceful  sweep  of  the  long  train.  On 
this  another  ball  was  placed  for  the  body,  and  on 
this  again  a  third,  smaller  one,  for  the  well  shaped 


234  Th^  Lady  of  Snow. 

head.  Then  Eleanor  running  to  the  house,  re- 
turned with  a  handful  of  cranberries.  Two  were 
pressed  firmly  into  the  head  for  eyes.  A  third  she 
squeezed  hard,  rubbing  the  red  juice  on  the  firm 
white  cheeks,  which  blushed  astonishingly  beneath 
her  touch.  Four  cranberries  placed  side  by  side 
made  the  soft  red  mouth  of  this  wonderful  snow- 
lady,  and  then  I  wish  you  could  have  seen 
her.  Eleanor  again  ran  to  the  house,  and  got  a 
summer  gardening  hat,  and  an  old  red  shawl, 
which  shawl  had  long  been  regarded  as  the  cat's 
undisputed  property — but  the  poor  lady's  need 
was  great.  The  straw  hat  was  placed  on  her 
head,  and  the  faded  green  strings  tied  under  her 
chin,  and  the  little  girl  smiled,  well  pleased  at  the 
fiery,  blushing  face  before  her.  Perhaps  the  lady 
had  reason  to  blush,  for  as  yet,  poor  thing,  she  was 
entirely  unclothed.  But  Eleanor  quickly  remedied 
that  by  folding  the  warm  shawl  tenderly  about  the 
slender  figure,  crossing  and  pinning  it  in  front. 
Just  as  she  did  this,  a  gentle  voice  said : 

"Thank  you,  dear."     She  turned  but  saw  no 
one. 


The  Lady  of  Snow.  235 

Again  the  voice  said:  "Thank  you  for  the 
shawl,"  and  then  the  child  started  back  in  astonish- 
ment, for  the  words  had  come  from  the  cranberry 
lips  of  the  Snow-Lady. 

''Why,  Lady,  Lady,"  she  stammered  when 
she  was  able  to  speak  at  all,  "  I  never  knew  before 
that  snow-people  could  speak." 

"  Snow-men  can't,"  said  the  Lady,  "  and  't  is 
snow-men  that  children  usually  make,  but  you, 
little  girl,  have  made  a  snow-woman,  and  women 
always  talk  more  than  men." 

•'Why,  yes,"  said  Eleanor,  "I  have  often 
heard  my  Papa  say  that." 

She  was  delighted  with  her  new  friend  and 
spent  the  entire  day  with  her.  It  had  grown 
warmer,  and  the  heat  seemed  to  affect  the  Snow- 
Lady,  for  as  the  day  wore  on,  she  became  greatly 
depressed.  When  at  last  night  came,  and  Mamma 
called  her  to  come  in,  Eleanor  put  her  arms  about 
the  Lady  and  kissed  her  affectionately  on  her  red  lips. 

"Good-night,  I  will  come  to  you  to-morrow," 
she  whispered,  but  the  Lady  gave  her  a  tender, 
melting  look,  and  said  sadly : 


236  The  Lady  of  Snow. 

"You  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  dear  little 
girl.     Good-bye,  good-bye,  good-bye." 

Eleanor  running  back,  gave  her  one  more  kiss, 
and  turning  at  the  door,  saw  the  Snow-Lady's  face, 
now  so  sad,  still  looking  at  her. 

"  No  wonder  she  feels  badly  to  be  left  alone 
through  the  long  night,"  thought  Eleanor,  "but  I 
will  go  to  her  the  very  first  thing  to-morrow." 
With  this  thought  she  fell  asleep.  And  as  she 
slept,  a  gentle  "pat-pat-pattering"  was  heard  out- 
side, which  continued  all  through  the  night,  and 
in  the  morning  when  Eleanor  looked  from  her 
little  window,  there  was  the  bare  brown  earth 
again, — the  beautiful  snow  was  gone. 

"My  Lady,  my  dear  Snow-Lady,"  she  cried, 
and  dressing  quickly  she  hurried  out  to  her.  But 
alas,  when  she  reached  the  spot  there  lay  in  a  sad 
little  heap  only  the  old  red  shawl,  and  on  it  the 
green  trimmed  straw  bonnet.  And  Eleanor  felt  as 
if  the  whole  beautiful,  white  world  of  yesterday 
and  the  lovely  Lady  of  Snow,  who  had  looked  so 
sadly  at  her,  had  been  but  a  dream. 


HOW  THE  ANDIRONS  TOOK  A  WALK. 

IN  a  big  open  fireplace,  polished  and  clean, 
A  glorious,  rollicking  fire  was  seen, 
But  its    Andirons,    standing    erect,   tall  and 
stiff. 
Were  wondering — wondering — wondering  if — — 

**Twere  better  to  stay  there,  supporting  that  wood, 
For  that's  what  they  did,  as  good  andirons  should, 
Or  go  into  the  garden,  and  jump  all  about, 
And  canter  and  gallop,  and  caper  and  shout? 

And  one  said,  **/,  now,  am  for  running  away, 
I  think  it  outrageous,  that  we  two  must  stay 
Standing  perfectly  quiet,  as  if  on  the  rack. 
While  this  merciless  fire  is  burning  our  back," 


«37 


238     How  the  Andirons  Took  a  Walk. 

''That's  so,"  said  the  other,  "it  does  not  seem 

right 
That  we  with  our  polish,  I  know  we  are  bright, 
Are  never  invited  to  houses  about, 
While  even  the  fire's  allowed  to  go  out  I " 

"Then   let  us  go,   now,"  said  these  bold  brassy 

brothers, 
"We  will  take  for  ourselves,    what    is  given    to 

others. 
We'll  go  for  a  holiday,  hip,  hip,  hurrah ! 
Good-bye,  Mr.  Bellows,  we  're  not  going  far." 

"We  '11  go  by  the  big  chair,"  said  one,  '*to  the 

hall, 
And  keep  close  together,  so  neither  can  fall." 
"  Of  course,"  said  the  other,  "  together  we  '11  stay, 
But  I'll  be  the  leader,  and  show  you  the  way. 

"  First  over  the  fender,  and  round  by  that  stool—" 
Interrupted  the  other  ;  "  I  think  you  're  a  fool 


240    How  the  Andirons  Took  a  Walk. 

To  suppose  for  one  moment  that  I  'm  such  a 
tender, 

As  to  try  with  three  legs  to  jump  over  that  fen- 
der." 


"Of  the  sense  in  your  brass  knob  I  've  long  been 

in  doubt, 
If  we   don't  jump  that  fender,  how  shall  we  get 

out?" 
"  Why,  kick  it  down,  addlepate,  that  is  the  way." 
** '  Addlepate,  addlepate,'  what 's  that  you  say  ?  "    J 

"  You  can  kick  it  yourself  then,  I  'm  not  such  an 

ass. 
As  to  wear  out  my  poor  legs,  a-kickin'  of  brass." 
"  You  're  a  stupid,  cantankerous,  obstinate  chump 
If  you   won't   kick  that  fender,    and   I  '11    never 

jump." 

"  Hush,  hush,"  said  the  Bellows  and  Shovel  and 

Tongs, 
"Just  stay  in  the  fireplace,  and  settle  your  wrongs, 


How  the  Andirons  Took  a  Walk.     241 

Stand  under  the  embers,  and  finish  your  talk, 
You  're  both  much  too  heated  to  go  for  a  walk." 


**0h,  yes,"  said  the  Poker,  '''tis  much  better  taste 
For    each    of    us    brethren    to   stay    where    he 's 

placed." 
"Very  well,"  said  the  Andirons,  and  each  hung  his 

head, 
And  in  the  hot  ashes,  they  both  went  to  bed. 


"ACHUSETTS'S     RIDE     TO     PHILA- 
DELPHIA." 


ONE  time   a   letter   was    put  into    the   box^ 
directed  to — 

Miss  Margaret  Van  Duff, 
Salem, 

Massachusetts. 
It  was  sent  by  a  little  girl  to  her  cousin,  and 
contained  a  pretty  Christmas  card.  Unfortu- 
nately, in  directing  it,  Gladys  put  the  achusetts 
so  very  near  the  edge  of  the  envelope,  that  when 
the  letter  was  dropped  into  the  box  "  Achusetts  " 


"  Achusetts's  Ride  to  Philadelphia."    243 

fell  off.     He  was  n't  hurt  in  the  least,  for  he  fell 
on  a  round  soft  newspaper.     Stopping  a  moment 
to  hear  the  news,  he  hopped  nimbly  down  on  to  a 
thin  foreign-looking  letter. 
?       "Where  are  you  going?"  said  Achusetts. 

"To  Germany,"  was  the  answer,  proudly 
given. 

"Then,  upon  my  word,  I  think  I  will  join  you," 
said  Achusetts,  "and  I  am  very  glad  that  I  hap- 
pened to  meet  you." 

"The  pleasure  is  mutual,"  said  the  German 
letter,  politely,  "but  as  to  taking  you  with  me  to 
Germany,  that  I  cannot  do.  I  am  sorry,  but  you 
see,  it  costs  a  great  deal  of  money  to  go  there. 
My  poor  master  had  to  give  five  cents  to  pay  my 
passage  over,  and  it  would  be  a  great  imposition, 
if  you  were  to  join  me." 

Achusetts,  although  disappointed,  saw  the  force 
of  this  reasoning,  and  wishing  the  traveller  a  pleas- 
ant voyage,  left  him.  Achusetts  had  never  been 
in  a  letter-box  before,  and  found  much  to  interest 
him.  New  letters  kept  dropping  in,  through  the 
one  door,  and  as  they  all  talked  at  once,  it  soon 


244    "  Achusetts's  Ride  to  Philadelphia." 

seemed  very  much  like  an  afternoon  tea.  One 
letter  was  crying  bitterly. 

''Whatisthe  matter  with  her?"  asked  little 
Achusetts,  of  a  very  dirty  letter,  who  was  sitting 
near. 

"  Going  to  the  dead-letter  office  ;  they  forgot 
to  put  on  the  stamp,"  was  the  answer. 

''Oh,"  said  Achusetts  pityingly,  for  among 
letters  it  is  considered  a  terrible  disgrace  to  be 
sent  to  the  dead-letter  office. 

Just  then,  someone  said :  "  It  is  time  for  the 
postman  to  come." 

"Oh,"  said  Achusetts  frightened,  "then  I 
must  hurry  back  to  my  own  letter." 

But  do  you  know,  although  he  searched  every- 
where, the  poor  little  fellow  could  not  find  his 
letter.  The  box  was  very  dark,  and  filled  almost 
to  the  top.  The  postman  now  appeared,  and  took 
out  all  the  letters,  leaving  poor  Achusetts  behind, 
in  spite  of  his  piteous  cries  to  be  allowed  to 
go  with  the  others.  The  box  was  then  locked, 
and  he  was  alone.  His  sobs  and  cries  echoed 
through     the     lonely     iron      house.      Suddenly, 


**  Achusetts's  Ride  to  Philadelphia."    245 

"click,"  a  New  York  letter  was  dropped  in. 
She  was  very  kind  and  sympathetic  with  Achu- 
setts,  when  she  heard  his  story,  but  was  powerless 
to  help. 

"But  don't  cry,"  she  said,  "  many  letters  are 
dropped  in  here  with  only  *  Mass'  on  them,  and 
there  will  be  your  chance." 

"Click,"  and  at  that  very  moment  another 
letter  was  dropped  in.  She  was  a  gorgeous 
creature,  dressed  in  pale  violet,  and  with  a  beau- 
tiful violet  wax  buckle  at  her  back.  She  was 
addressed  to — 

Miss  Violet  Blueblood, 

2000  Beacon  St., 

Boston,  Mass. 

But  alas,  this  address  took  up  so  much  of  the  en- 
velope, that  there  proved  to  be  no  room  for  poor 
little  Achusetts.  And  letter  after  letter  was 
dropped  in,  and  still  there  seemed  to  be  no  chance 
for  him.  Again  the  time  came  for  the  postman, 
they  heard  his  key  in  the  lock,  when  suddenly 
Achusetts  caught  sight  of  a  letter  lying  near  ad- 


246    **  Achusetts's  Ride  to  Philadelphia." 

dressed  to  "  Philadelphia,  Penn."  It  was  very 
dark  in  the  letter-box,  and  poor  Achusetts's  eyes 
were  swollen  with  crying,  so  he  mistook  the  Penn 
for  Mass. 

"That  is  where  I  belong,"  he  thought,  "right 
up  near  the  Mass,  and  there  is  plenty  of  room  for 
me,  too.  But  I  am  not  going  to  ask  this  letter 
to  let  me  get  on,  because  I  have  been  refused  so 
many  times. 

So  just  as  the  postman  slid  the  letters  out, 
Achusetts  scrambled  quickly  on  the  envelope,  and 
threw  his  arms  tightly  about  Penn  till  he  was 
firmly  stuck.  Penn  struggled  wildly  to  escape, 
but  in  vain.  When  they  got  out  into  the  light, 
what  was  Achusetts's  horror  to  find  that  he  had 
fastened  himself  on  to  a  Penn  instead  of  a  Mass^ 
But  the  mischief  was  done  ;  they  could  not  sepa- 
rate, although  they  were  very  much  afraid  that 
Achusetts's  unfortunate  blunder  would  send  them 
to  the  dead-letter  office.  But  the  letter  did,  after 
all,  reach  its  destination,  although  little  Robert 
Richardson  was  very  much  surprised,  and  laughed 
heartily  to  get   a   letter   addressed    to   him   at — 


"Achusetts's  Ride  to  Philadelphia."     247 

2001  Chestnut  Street, 
Philadelphia, 

Pennachusetts. 

As  for  the  other  letter  on  which  Achusetts 
belonged,  and  from  which  he  fell,  that,  too, 
reached  in  safety  Margaret  Van  Duff  at 

Salem, 

Mass 

Still,  you  can  see  how  important  it  is,  chil- 
dren, to  direct  your  envelopes  very  carefully,  or 
part,  or  possibly  the  whole,  of  the  address  may 
tumble  off  and  the  letters  never  reach  the  people 
for  whom  they  are  intended. 


THE  MOUSE'S  REVENGE. 

A  Tragedy. 

THERE  was  once  a  Mouse,  who  lived  up  in 
the  tall  steeple  of  a  church.  It  was  really 
a  pleasant  place  to  live  in  for  many  rea- 
sons. It  was  quiet,  the  air  was  good,  the  view 
very  beautiful,  and  there  were  no  cats  there.  In 
fact,  only  one  thing  troubled  the  Mouse,  and  as 
he  grew  older,  it  troubled  him  more  and  more. 
And  that  was  the  Bell,  a  big,  sullen-looking  iron 
Bell,  which  hung  in  the  tower.  It  was  rung  every 
night  at  nine,  and  the  noise  it  made  was  dread- 
ful. The  Mouse  talked  to  the  Bell  again  and 
again,  and  told  him  rudely  to  "hold  his  tongue," 
but  it  was  of  no  use.  Each  night,  just  as  he  had 
sunk  into  his  first  doze,  "clang,  clang"  would  go 
the  Bell.     "  Nine  o  clock,  nine  o'clock,"  it  seemed 


The  Mouse's  Revenge.  249 

to  say,  and  the  poor  Mouse  would  wake  up, 
shivering  with  terror. 

"Suppose  it  is  nine  o'clock,"  he  would  sob; 
"you  can't  prevent  its  being  nine  o'clock,  and 
what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  But  it  had 
a  heart  of  iron  and  was  not  touched. 

One  evening,  the  Mouse  climbed  directly  on 
the  Bell  itself,  and  sat  there  admiring  the  sunset. 
He  became  drowsy,  and  quite  forgetting  where  he 
was,  fell  fast  asleep.  He  was  awakened  by  a 
most  horrible  noise.  He  felt  the  ground,  as  he 
thought,  rock  beneath  him.  Suddenly  he  remem- 
bered where  he  was,  that  it  was  nine  o'clock,  and 
that  the  Bell  was  beginning  its  nightly  duty  ! 

"Clang,  clang,"  it  said. 

The  poor  Mouse  jumped  frantically  from  one 
side  to  the  other,  and  screamed  : 

"Stop,  stop,  let  me  get  off!"  but  it  did  not 
stop,  and,  at  last,  becoming  dizzy,  he  staggered — 
lost  his  footing — and  fell! 

Down,  down,  down  he  went,  striking  on  the 
stone  floor  of  the  tower,  many  feet  below.  He 
was  not   killed,  but  he  was  much   bruised.    All 


250  The  Mouse's  Revenge. 


through  the  long  night  he  lay  there,  and  got  up 
the  next  morning,  feeling  stiff  and  miserable,  and 
very,  very  angry. 

"  I  will  punish  that  wicked  bell,"  he  said.  "  I 
can't  bite  him,  that  I  know,  for  I  tried  to  once  and 
could  n't.  His  skin  is  fearfuly  tough.  I  wish  he 
would  fall,  just  as  I  did,  the  heartless  monster," 
he  sobbed. 

But  suddenly  his  sobs  ceased,  and  his  eyes 
brightened,  for  an  idea  had  come  to   him.     The 

Bell,  of  course,  he  could 
not  bite,  but  how  about 
that  rope  above  it  and  on 
which  it  hung?  *'  If  I 
gnaw   through   that,    the 

Bell  will  fall hurrah," 

he  squealed,  and  at  once 
began  his  work.  '  *  Gnaw, 
gnaw,  gnaw,"  went  the 
sharp  little  teeth,  and  be- 
fore long,  a  tiny  strand 
snapped.  He  stopped  for 
a  moment  and  laughed. 


The  Mouse's  Revenge.  251 

**Stop  gnawing,  you  small  wretch,"  roared  the 
Bell.     "  I  will  punish  you." 

"Oh,  no,  you  can't  hurt  me,"  said  the  Mouse, 
and  the  Bell,  feeling  that  this  was  so,  trembled  with 
rage,  knowing  that  he  was  powerless,  although 
big  and  strong,  and  with  a  tongue  mightier  than 
any  pen. 

**  You  can't  even  speak  till  nine  o'clock  to- 
night," said  the  Mouse,  "and  it  shall  be  my  pleas- 
ing duty  to  see  that  even  then  you  remain  silent," 
and  he  chuckled  in  great  glee.  Then  he  began 
again,  "gnaw,  gnaw,  gnaw."  Snap,  went  another 
strand,  and  before  very  long  the  rope  gave  way 
entirely,  and  down  went  the  big  Bell  with  a  tre- 
mendous crash  that  seemed  to  shake  the  very 
building ! 

But,  oh,  little  Mouse,  poor  little  Mouse,  how 
did  it  happen  ?  With  it,  he  fell  too  !  He  had 
been  sitting  on  the  Bell,  you  know,  and  had 
gnawed  the  rope  above  his  head.  When  that 
broke,  down  came  the  Bell,  and  he  being  on  it, 
had  to  come  too.  When  some  men,  hearing  the 
crash,  rushed  up  the  stairs,  to  see  what  had  hap- 


252  The  Mouse's  Revenue. 

pened,  they  found  the  Bell  on  the  stone  floor. 
broken  in  many  pieces,  while  under  it  lay  the  poor 
Mouse,  quite,  quite  dead. 

You  see,  we  can  never  injure  others  without 
danger  of  injuring  ourselves. 


THE  TAIL  OF  A  MOUSE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  a  wee  Mouse  crept  from 
his  hole,  and,  crossing  the  room,  suddenly- 
appeared  upon  my  writing  table.  I  like 
mice,  and  he  may  have  known  it.  Anyway,  there 
he  sat,  winking  his  beady  little  eyes  roguishly  at 
me.  I  knew  that  mice  often  have  very  thrilling 
experiences,  forcing  their  way  without  invitation  or 
encouragement  into  the  houses  of  the  rich  and 
poor  alike,  and  going  from  attic  to  cellar,  from 
boudoir  to  butler's  pantry,  and  I  thought,  **  Now, 
perhaps  this  little  fellow  will  tell  me  the  story  of 
his  life,  that  I  may  again  tell  it  to  my  children." 
So  I  said,  very  politely : 

"  Most  beautiful  Mouse,  will  you  not  kindly  tell 
me  the  tale  of  your  life  ? " 

*'Well,"  said  the  Mouse,  very  indignantly,  "if 

353 


254 


The  Tail  of  a  Mouse. 


you  cannot  see  my  tail,  my  beautiful  tail,  yourself, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  I  think  you  must  be 
stupid,  and  I  really  cannot  waste  my  valuable  time 
in  talking  with  you." 

So  away  he  went,  and  as  he  took  his  tail  with 
him,  I  am  very  sorry  to  say  that  I  am  unable  to 
tell  it  to  you. 


0 


